


Alternatively, Together

by ibohemianam



Series: Chaconne [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 66,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9829412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibohemianam/pseuds/ibohemianam
Summary: It is 5 ABY. Jyn and Cassian are stationed on the newly-established New Republic base on Yavin 4, and their next-door neighbors, the Damerons, believe that domesticity has finally won over when the big announcement comes that two will soon be three.But, of course, that it’s never quite that simple.A sequel toAlternatively,.The Latest:They fell.





	1. A New Family

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot. Well, fark.
> 
> This story exists due to your mingled praise and demands that _Alternatively,_ be continued. Cheers.

“I hate you,” Jyn said.

“I know,” Cassian said.

“Yeah, I love you both, but I’m very confused,” Kes said.

“ _Sit down_ ,” Jyn snarled.

Kes sat. He looked at Shara, curled up gracefully on the couch with Poe happily burbling away in her lap. She raised an eyebrow. He turned back to Jyn, who stood in the doorway to the family room, arms crossed.

“What’s--”

“-- _shut up_ ,” Jyn snapped.

Kes snapped his mouth shut, shooting Cassian a look. His best and oldest friend, standing behind Jyn, grimaced.

Jyn glared at the wall behind Kes’s head, lips pressed together.

“Jyn,” Cassian prompted.

“I’m getting there,” she said tersely.

Poe cooed, dropping his toy X-wing into his mother’s lap. Jyn’s gaze fixed on him, then shifted back to Shara and Kes, and finally, she turned to Cassian.

“This is ridiculous,” she said.

“No, it’s not,” Cassian replied, placing both hands on her shoulders and gently turning her back around, “This is family.”

He felt her narrow shoulders tighten beneath his hands and squeezed, bracingly.

Kes looked at them with a mixture of amusement and dread, which had become his default expression when jointly confronted by the wildly unpredictable Erso-Andor duo.

“You’re not… leaving, are you?” he asked.

“ _What?_ ” Jyn said loudly, “Why would we be leaving?”

Cassian nudged her again. She held up a finger, narrowly avoiding stabbing him in the nose.

Kes smothered a snort. Jyn glared at him.

“Jyn, just say it,” Kes sighed, “At this point, nothing short of you adopting baby flying banthas could surprise me with you two.”

Both Jyn and Cassian froze.

“Oh, fark,” Kes said.

Shara burst out laughing. Poe giggled, happy because Papa had said a bad word and Mama was laughing at him.

“ _No_ ,” Kes said, standing, hand going to his moustache and tugging furiously, “ _No karking way_.”

Jyn took half a step forward, as if she was preparing to level him with the fist she had made at her side, but Cassian tugged her back, sufficiently recovered from his surprise to appreciate Kes’s response.

“You’re--” Kes stammered, turning to Shara, “She’s--” he looked to Cassian, “She’s--you--” he made some unintelligible sound that fell somewhere between hysteria and disbelief, “You’re _pregnant!?_ ”

Jyn’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not _pregnant_ , you farking piece of _flying bantha poodoo_ ,” she snarled, “We’re _adopting_.”

Kes had to sit down. Hard.

“Adopting,” he repeated.

“ _Yes_ ,” Jyn spat, “There are many children that need homes.”

Kes stared at her, uncomprehending.

“But,” he said, “You don’t even like kids. ”

“You’re just a poor representative,” Jyn said scathingly, “I have nothing against proper children.”

“Yeah,” Kes muttered under his breath, “Like any kid you raise will grow up ‘proper.’”

Jyn stepped forward again, mouth open, but Cassian spoke over her.

“Leia asked us,” he said, “There is a child--a boy--from Alderaan. His mother was a friend of Bail’s.”

“Leia asked _you?_ ” Kes spluttered, “I mean, you I can understand, Cass, but _her_ \--”

Cassian heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“Really?” he said, eyebrows raised, “You’re going to keep this up?”

Kes made a face.

“This is how I cope with surprise, you know,” he groused.

“Yeah, by making fun of me,” Jyn said, “You’re definitely not a child.”

Cassian chuckled fondly, making what Kes had termed Disgusting Lovey Eyes at Jyn, who pretended to ignore him, leaning slightly back against his chest instead.

“But yeah,” Kes said, dropping back down to the couch. Poe crawled from Shara’s lap into his. “This is great news. Surprising news. But great news. I guess.” He pulled Poe into his arms and grinned at them. “Now Poe won’t be lonely when you babysit!”

Jyn rolled her eyes and stalked across the room to her designated armchair. Cassian followed, plucking Poe from Kes’s arms as he passed.

“What’s his name?” Shara asked, once Cassian had settled down on the thick, woven rug beside the armchair, Poe’s little arms around his neck, Jyn’s hand just brushing his shoulder.

Cassian hesitated a moment, gently prying Poe away from his throat and settling him against his chest.

“Prestor,” he said quietly, “Prestor Organa.”

He looked up at them, at the matching expressions of surprise melting to sadness and understanding.

“He’s distantly related to Leia,” Cassian continued, leaning against the side of the armchair, “Some sort of nephew, thrice removed, I think.”

“So really, more like your nephew, thrice removed,” Kes said, dutifully pushing loss and memory aside, “You’re basically an Organa yourself.”

Cassian huffed a short laugh, shrugging lopsidedly. Jyn rested a hand in his hair.

“According to Leia,” she said, “He’s been on Espirion since The Disaster, but he’s--” she glanced down at Cassian, “--been having some trouble there.”

“He’s a blue-blood Alderaanian of the last Royal House on a planet of Alder-Espirions,” Cassian explained bluntly, “After everything Jora Astane did--” he shrugged, lip curled slightly, “It really didn’t help his situation.”

Kes sat back, thoughtful.

“How old is he?” Shara asked.

“Six,” Cassian said.

Poe shifted against his chest, sleepy and warm, fists clutched loosely in the thin fabric of his shirt. Cassian looked down at him, face unreadable.

“I’ll be flying out to meet Leia on Chandrila with the next transport,” he said, “Then we’ll be going on to Espirion together.”

“He’s getting cabin fever,” Jyn said wryly, “Planetside for more than a month, and he’ll invent some other Imperial conspiracy to chase down.”

Cassian made a face. Kes and Shara laughed.

“I’ll be taking some leave, obviously,” he said, specifically addressing Kes, “Admiral Cracken’s approved it, and Kay’s agreed to a temporary loan to Analytics--he’ll be on base while I’m gone since the only other person he’d ever work with has decided to take an early retirement.”

“Yes, I’ll go say hi,” Kes sighed loudly, responding to the unspoken request. To Jyn, he said, “Why aren’t you going with him?”

Jyn and Cassian shared a look.

“Han said he needed some help,” Jyn said.

“Oh, fark,” Kes said, thunking his head back against the wall, “What now?”

Jyn hesitated, and Cassian looked away.

“Kashyyyk,” she said finally.

“Fark,” Kes said again, throwing his hands up, staring at the ceiling, “This is great.”

Jyn shrugged.

“You asked,” she said.

“Don’t say any more,” Kes said, “If you do, I’m going to feel obligated to go just to keep an eye on you.”

“And then I’ll have to go just to keep an eye on _him_ ,” Shara said, prodding Kes in the shoulder, “I don’t think L’ulo would be glad to hear I’d left Poe with my father again.”

“Who’ll be covering for you while you’re gone?” Kes asked Cassian, blatantly redirecting the conversation.

“I don’t know,” Cassian grimaced, obviously ill-at-ease with the thought, “Luke said he’d be by for a few days on his way to some Jedi thing, but I don’t know if we really have anyone.”

“So it’ll be business as usual, then,” Kes said, “Not-really-controlled chaos.”

Cassian glanced at Shara out of the corner of his eye, half a breath from making a suggestion, but she glared at him warningly, and he looked away, out the large transparisteel windows overlooking the sprawling, grassy clearing. His back twinged then, an unwelcome reminder of age and responsibility, and he stood regretfully, Poe squirming in his arms.

“Speaking of chaos,” he said, checking his wrist-chrono, “I have to get down to the base.”

Smoothly, he turned and deposited Poe in Jyn’s lap. She squawked in protest.

“Be nice,” he said to her, pressing a quick kiss into her hair.

“Let us know before you leave?” Kes said, slouching deeper into the sofa, “So I can brace myself for Erso without the moderating influence of Andor.”

Cassian sighed.

“Yes,” he said, “I’ll let you know.”

Shara stood and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered, smiling when he flushed and looked away.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said to Jyn, “Don’t make Poe cry.”

“That was _one time!_ ” she said indignantly.

“Bye ’ncle Cass,” Poe said, waving one chubby hand, “’Bye.”

“Goodbye, Poe,” Cassian said gently, “I’ll see you soon.”


	2. Interlude I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Endor, Jyn arrives on Yavin 4. She and Kes have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place one week after the last chapter of _Alternatively,_.

"Hi Jyn.”

“The fark are you doing here?”

“Yeah, good to see you too,” Kes muttered sourly, “Get in before I change my mind.”

“Where’s Cassian?” Jyn demanded, squinting up at him.

“Resting,” Kes replied acidly, “Getting a tan. Driving my wife insane. At least one of those is true.”

Jyn eyed him warily but climbed up into the speeder beside him, stuffing her rucksack under her seat and crossing her arms.

“‘Hi Kes,’” Kes said in a high-pitched voice, “‘Thanks for the lift, Kes. I really appreciate you flying all the way out here to pick me up.’” He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye as they pulled into the sky. “Oh, no,” he continued in a low voice when she exhibited no reaction, staring stonily ahead, “It’s no problem. This is always what I’d dreamed retirement would be--chauffeuring my best friend’s girlfriend around.”

“I’m not his _girlfriend_ ,” Jyn spat, glaring at him.

“It speaks!” Kes exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

“You want to say that again?” Jyn said dangerously.

“Uh,” Kes swallowed, very glad he was the one doing the flying, “No.”

Jyn turned back to her frigid examination of the windscreen, seemingly oblivious to the lush, green rainforest streaking by below them.

“Look,” Kes said in his normal voice, “He wanted to be the one to pick you up, but he’s not cleared to fly yet. That’s why you get me.”

Jyn said nothing.

Kes sighed.

“He’s doing a lot better,” he continued, “He’s walking and, believe it or not, _talking_. Unlike certain people I could name.” He glanced over at Jyn again. “Shara won’t let him hold Poe yet, and it’s killing him deep down in his squishy, secret soul that he thinks no one knows exists. But I think she’s got a point. I don’t think he could lift a blaster right now if his life depended on it. Plus, I think it’s a bit early for my son to be losing brain cells if Cass drops him or something.”

Jyn snorted.

Kes considered this a victory.

“So,” he prompted, dragging the word out, “I hear you two talked.”

Jyn said nothing.

“Oh, _fark_ , cut it out,” Kes said in irritated exasperation, “I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re only pretending to be angry because angry is your default response when you don’t know what else to do, and this--” he flapped a hand in her face, “--is it.”

Jyn glared at him.

“That too,” Kes said pointedly.

Jyn rolled her eyes and looked away.

“So?” Kes repeated, “You two talked?”

“Yes,” Jyn said icily, “And I don’t see why it’s any of your business.”

“Oh, buddy,” Kes drawled, “It’s _all_ of my business. Cass is family. For the longest time, I thought he had secret aspirations for priesthood or monkhood something--no girls, no guys, no--” he wiggled his fingers, and Jyn made a face, “--other things. _So_ ,” he emphasized, “Since it’s only taken him four years to metaphorically bare his very metaphorical soul to you, I think it’s entirely my business to inform you that if you screw this up, I will hunt you down and kill you very, very slowly.”

“I think you’ve already started,” Jyn replied flatly, turning to him, “Death by conversation.”

Kes sighed loudly.

“Very funny,” he said, peeling away from the main hyperlane and setting out across the treeline. He drummed his fingers on the steering yoke. “He told me,” he began again, “He said he told you about Tantim.”

“Tantim,” Jyn repeated.

“Oh fark,” Kes said, “He didn’t.”

Jyn looked down at her fisted hands.

“He did,” she said quietly, “He just didn’t tell me her name.”

“What _did_ he tell you?” Kes asked carefully.

Jyn shrugged.

“Not much,” she said.

“Jyn,” Kes said, “You’re gonna have to give me more than that.”

“What?” Jyn snorted, “You expected him to tell me his whole life story while he was bleeding out? Han was right. You _are_ the worst kind of romantic.”

“Don’t tell me that’s not what you’ve been waiting for,” Kes said, with just an edge of sharpness.

“Yes,” Jyn replied in the same tone, “I’ve been waiting for him to bleed to death. I dream about it every night.”

“ _Jyn_ ,” Kes snapped.

“ _What?_ ” Jyn returned, “What do you think you’re doing? _Protecting_ him? Cassian doesn’t need protecting. He’s perfectly capable of protecting himself.”

“I’m doing this because I care about him,” Kes said tightly.

“What, and you think I don’t?”

Kes turned to look at her.

“You’ve had a really strange way of showing it,” he said flatly.

Tension hummed high and clear.

“Whatever you really want to say,” Jyn snapped, “Say it now.”

Kes was silent, knuckles gripping the controls.

“You hurt him,” he said, “When you left.”

“I know,” Jyn said quietly.

“He’ll never admit it. You know that. So I’m saying it for him.”

Jyn looked out the window.

When several minutes had passed, and she still had not replied, Kes cleared his throat.

“Jyn?” he prompted.

“How--” uncharacteristically, she hesitated, “How long have you known him?”

“About eight years,” Kes replied, eyes fixed on the horizon, “But I know you’re really asking how I got to know him so well.” He glanced quickly at her. “I speak your little Silent Language too, you know. I’ve had years of practice.”

Jyn turned away to hide a smile.

“I like to think that it’s my impressively romantic charm that wore him down,” Kes continued, flashing her a grin, “But yeah,” he said, “Cass is…” he shrugged, “Cass. It was like trying to make friends with a spitting bantha.”

“That sounds familiar,” Jyn said blandly.

“Yeah,” Kes said, “I think he feels much the same.”

They streaked into the golden sunset, nearly skimming the treetops until, suddenly, the trees fell away.

“Hm,” Jyn said, looking down at the small, grassy clearing as they circled to a landing, “You move fast.”

“Yeah,” Kes replied, “It’s almost done. Just have to put up curtains and stuff.”

“Who did the plumbing?” Jyn asked slyly.

“Oh, don’t start,” Kes grumbled.

“Who?” Jyn repeated, suppressing a smile, “If I’m going to be staying here, I think I deserve to know if my toilet’s going to--”

“--Shara,” Kes snapped, powering down the engines, “Shara did the plumbing. Most of it, at least. Happy?”

“Relieved,” Jyn snorted, snatching up her bag and hopping out.

“‘Thank you for the ride, Kes,’” Kes muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” Jyn said over her shoulder, striding across the grass.

Kes made a face at her back and vaulted to the ground, hurrying to catch up.

“Listen,” he said quickly, “He’s still kind of fragile, so don’t--”

Jyn turned on him so quickly he stumbled over his own feet.

“--Are you done?” she demanded, “Because I’m beginning to think there’s more than one person here who’s feeling a little insecure.”

Kes looked down, a sharp jerk of the head.

“Just--” he said, looking up again and meeting her in the eye, “Just be careful with him, will you?”

“He’s not as fragile as you think he is,” Jyn retorted.

“Yeah,” Kes said, turning away, “I really hope so.”

* * *

Cassian watched the speeder appear on the horizon from the front porch of the Dameron home, casually leaning on the wooden rail, hands in pockets. 

He felt a small tug on his trouser leg and looked down.

“’Ncle Cass,” Poe said, neck craned, looking up at him, hands raised, “Fly?”

Cassian looked quickly over his shoulder at the open door. Shara was nowhere to be seen, so he grinned down at Poe, crouching carefully and touching the little boy’s nose with a finger.

“You’re going to turn out to be a crazy pilot just like your mama, aren’t you?” he said fondly, scooping Poe up with a pained grunt.

He staggered a little as he straightened, muttering, “You’re getting so big. Must be all those oro sticks, hm?”

Poe giggled and crowed, “Fly! Fly!”

“So demanding,” Cassian grumbled, shifting him higher, lips pressed together grimly. Poe giggled again, eyes scrunched, dark curls tumbling in disarray. “Ready?” Cassian asked.

“Fly!” Poe shouted, “Fly!”

“What the _fark_ do you think you’re doing?” Shara demanded, bursting out onto the porch just in time to catch her cousin hurl her son into the air.

“Fly!” Poe yelled, “I fly!”

Cassian, to his credit, caught him and only turned a little white at the look on Shara’s face.

“’gain!” Poe laughed, “’Gain!”

“Nope,” Shara said, snatching him away, “That’s enough excitement for you, little mister. It’s almost bedtime.”

Poe pouted, and Cassian looked apologetically at mother and son, palm splayed absently across his chest.

“You’re an idiot,” Shara said, without heat.

“Yeah,” Kes drawled, climbing up the steps and pressing sloppy kisses to his wife and son, who made remarkably similar expressions of disgust, “We all knew that already.”

“Jyn!” Shara exclaimed warmly, “It’s good to see you again.”

Jyn hovered at the edge of the stairs, smiling faintly.

“Thanks for having me stay,” she said, staring at Poe, who stared right back.

“Say hi to Auntie Jyn, Poe,” Shara said, bending and speaking softly in his ear.

Suddenly shy, Poe pressed himself against his mother and stared at Jyn with wide, wide eyes.

“Hi Poe,” Jyn said gently.

“Hi,” Poe whispered.

“Great,” Kes said, “She _doesn’t_ frighten children. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

He clapped Cassian on the shoulder and clomped into the house.

Shara sighed expressively and waved them in.

“Let me put this one to bed,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”

That left the two of them alone on the porch.

“Hey,” Cassian said.

“Hi,” Jyn said.

They found mutual fascination in the rough wooden floor panels.

“You look a lot better,” Jyn said, forcing her chin up.

“I don’t think I could have looked much worse, but thanks,” Cassian said drily, reaching out and taking her rucksack. “I’m glad you’re here,” he added sincerely.

Jyn cocked her head.

“So am I,” she said.

Cassian smiled faintly.

“I guess that’s a start.”


	3. Sequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two journeys begin.

Jyn Erso was terrible at goodbyes.

Cassian Andor was considerably worse.

They stood facing each other in the main hangar of the main ziggurat, uncertain in the quiet.

Jyn folded her arms across her chest.

“’Call me when you get to Chandrila,” she commanded.

“I will,” Cassian said, hands clasped behind his back, gaze shifting restlessly from ferrocrete to transparisteel to warm, living flesh. “Be careful,” he said.

“I will,” she said, “Tell Leia I said hi.”

“I will.”

He looked away again, over his shoulder at the waiting transport, an old U-wing from the waning days of the Clone Wars.

“You’re not going to tell me to say hi to Han?” Jyn asked, stepping closer.

“I know you will,” he said, leaning in just a little. “’Comm me before you leave.”

Jyn smiled up at him, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yes, General,” she said.

He dipped his head, smirking. “Lieutenant.”

After a quiet moment, he glanced over his shoulder again.

“I shouldn’t make them wait,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

They hovered closer, and he took her hand, gripping it briefly, tightly, before turning away.

Jyn watched him stride up the loading ramp, back stiff, straight.

He paused at the top and, just before the ramp sealed shut, turned back to her and smiled.

* * *

“Shara’s going to be so farking pissed with you,” Jyn said, hurrying after Han, “She’s done with this sort of thing.”

“Done helping friends?” Han grunted, striding across the grass, “I don’t think so, sister.”

Jyn reached up and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around.

“She’s done putting her _family_ aside,” Jyn snarled.

“Chewie _is_ family,” Han retorted, turning away again, “Besides, it’s not her I want. I need Kes. If she feels like she needs to come too, that’s her own problem.”

“ _Han_.” Jyn snatched his shoulder again, yanking him to a halt. “When was the last time you spoke with Leia?”

Han curled his lip.

“None of your business,” he snapped, “The hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything,” Jyn snarled, “Look, they have something good here, okay? They have Poe. They’ve settled down. You can’t just barge in there and force them to make a decision.”

“I said I just need Kes,” Han repeated, temper rising, “It’s his decision to make--”

“--You just don’t get it, do you?” Jyn hissed, “They’re a _family_. It’s _their_ decision to make.”

Han stared down at her.

“Fark,” he said, “Andor’s really got his claws in you, hasn’t he?”

Jyn narrowed her eyes.

“It’s common sense,” she spat, “Something you’ve shown over and over again you lack when it comes to personal matters.”

Han, stung, turned away again, and continued across the grass to the large, wooden cabin that was the Dameron home.

“ _Han_ ,” Jyn groaned, jogging after him.

“You have to know we need everyone we can get,” Han said, stride quickening, “I’m calling everything in for this one. _Everything._ ” He looked down at her, “This is our chance. Maybe our only chance to free Kashyyyk. To free Chewie’s _family_.” His eyes burned. “Nothing’s gonna stop me from trying to even the odds.”

They were at the front door now, and Jyn folded her arms, looking away.

Han raised a hand to knock. Then he sighed, dropped his hand, and turned to her.

“Look,” he said roughly, “You know I wouldn’t. If it was anyone but Chewie, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

Jyn squinted at him.

“He’ll come with you,” Jyn said, “You know he’ll leave them for you.”

“Believe me,” Han said quietly, pounding on the door, “I know.”

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Jyn said to Shara.

They stood together on the front porch, Poe in Shara’s arms, waiting for Kes to gather his things.

“It’s not your fault,” Shara said heavily, “He has a big heart.”

Jyn smiled faintly.

“Yeah,” she said, “He does.”

Kes tramped out of the house, armed to the teeth, boots thudding loudly against hand-polished wood. Jyn took her cue, touched Shara briefly on the arm, and slipped down off the porch to Han and the waiting landspeeder.

“I’m sorry,” Kes said, pressing them forehead-to-forehead.

“I know,” Shara replied.

“I love you,” Kes said.

“I love you too.”

“I love you!” Poe crowed.

Kes smiled faintly and gently took Poe in his arms, holding him close. Poe hugged him back, cheerful and bright.

“I’m going away for a little, okay buddy?” Kes said, “You be good for your mama.”

Poe looked up at him, stunned, tears filling his eyes.

“Don’t go,” he said, clutching his father tightly, “Don’t go, Papa.”

“It’s only for a little bit,” Kes said soothingly, “Just for a little bit. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He knew it was a lie.

“Don’t go, Papa,” Poe cried, “I don’t want you to go.”

Shara swallowed and gently peeled Poe away from his father.

“Be a good boy now, Poe,” she said quietly, holding him as he sobbed into her shoulder, “Papa will be back soon, and while he’s gone, we can ’call him, right? We can talk to him, and we can see him. You won’t even know he’s gone.”

 _Kes Dameron_ , she thought, _You’ve made a liar of me_.

“That’s right,” Kes said hoarsely, “You won’t even miss me.”

Poe said nothing, curling tighter against his mother and cried.

Kes bent and pressed a long kiss to his dark curls.

“I love you, Poe,” he said quietly, “I always will.”

He looked down at Shara.

“Shara Bey,” he said, emotion clouding his voice, “I promise--”

“--Don’t,” she said, pressing her free hand to his chest, “Just do what you’ve always done.”

“I will,” Kes said.

A long, lingering meeting of the lips, and he forced himself away, down the steps, across the grass, dashing tears of his own from his eyes.

Han started up the landspeeder, Jyn beside him.

“Papa!” Poe cried, “Papa, don’t go!”

Kes climbed into the backseat, sick to his stomach.

“Papa, _please!_ ”

Han hesitated, looking at Kes over his shoulder.

Kes, trembling, shook his head, bringing both hands up to his face.

“Go,” he said hollowly.

They went.

* * *

Cassian realised that he had not seen Leia face-to-face since the Battle of Endor.

She looked tired, he thought, as he hurried through the crowded hangar to meet her.

 _Just like Bail_.

He quashed that thought, mustering up a broad smile when she turned and saw him.

“Cassian!” she called, a matching grin spreading across her face.

The embraced, briefly, and Leia quickly dismissed her personal guard so they could move to the civilian transport bay in peace.

“How are things on Yavin 4?” she asked as they walked, “How’s Jyn?”

“We’ve finally finished reconstruction,” Cassian replied, wordlessly taking her small rucksack and slinging it over his shoulder, “Everything is up and running, including the new security protocols, thanks to Kaytoo.”

“And Jyn?” Leia looked slyly up at him.

“She’s fine,” Cassian replied automatically. “A little overwhelmed, maybe,” he admitted.

“Thanks for doing this,” Leia said quietly as they piled out of a ‘lift, “I know it can’t be easy, and the timing is terrible--”

“Leia, we’re not doing this for you,” Cassian said bluntly, smacking a door open with the palm of his hand, “We’re doing this because we want to.”

“Well, _excuse_ me,” Leia said, rolling her eyes, “Here I thought we were friends.”

“No,” Cassian said blandly, striding into the upper-level civilian hangar where Leia kept her private cruiser, “Family, not friends.”

“Well, I guess that’s really the case now, if this works out,” Leia said, nodding a greeting to a passing group of senators, “You’ll be my cousin or something. Nobility.”

Cassian made a face, swiping his access key against the panel on the underbelly of Leia’s ship.

“No thank you,” he said, yanking open the door and gesturing her inside.

Leia settled beside him in the cockpit, capably running through the pre-flight check while he ran their course through the navicomp.

“How’s Luke been?” he asked absently, squinting at his calculations, “He said he’d be on Yavin 4 for a few days while we were gone to take care of--”

“--some Jedi thing,” they said together.

Leia looked at him and laughed.

“Yeah,” she said, “That pretty much as much as I know too. I haven’t really spoken to him… Comms have been a mess.”

“Really,” he grunted.

Leia huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, sorry,” she said, “If it’s this bad in the Core, I can’t imagine what it’d be like way out on Yavin 4.”

“We’ve still got the ORCC,” Cassian said.

“Yeah?”  

Cassian heard the forced casualness in her tone.

“Yeah,” he replied, entering the final set of coordinates into the navicomp, “I’ve been the base’s primary liaison with Travia.”

“Well, you’re good for something, at least, _General_ ,” Leia said, smiling, “Ready?”

He looked over at her, settling his headphones over his ears, and nodded.

“You want to take her out?” he asked.

Leia fired the engines in response and eased them out of their docking bay with hardly contained enthusiasm.

Cassian cleared them with the control tower, and then they were off, breaking smoothly through the atmosphere with hardly a whisper of inertial dampeners.

“Good job,” he said.

Leia grinned at him, looking, for once, her age.

He keyed in the sequence for the first jump and watched as space blurred around them. Sitting back, he slipped off his headset and looped the cord around the arm of his chair.

“Jyn’s going with Han to Kashyyyk,” he said into the quiet hum of the hyperdrive, rubbing his beard.

“Really,” Leia replied flatly.

“You’ve been fighting again,” he said.

“That’s one word for it.”

“About what?”

Leia leaned on an armrest, chin in hand.

“He’s just so--” she fumbled for words, “-- _stupid_ sometimes,” she said.

“Stupid,” Cassian repeated, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes,” Leia said.

Cassian stood stiffly and stretched, leaning back against the auxiliary comsat panel, arms crossed. He waited.

Leia bit the inside of her lip, staring stubbornly out the main viewport.

Finally, she turned to him.

“I think we might have done something stupid,” she said.

Cassian raised an eyebrow.

“ _Both_ of us,” Leia emphasized.

Cassian hardly blinked.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Leia blushed, looking away.

“Yes,” she said.

“Congratulations,” Cassian said, a grin spreading slowly across his face, “How far along are you?”

“Three months,” Leia replied tightly.

“Leia,” Cassian said firmly.

She ignored him, staring fixedly at the streaming lights of hyperspace.

“The war’s not over yet, Cassian,” she said quietly, “You know that.”

“What difference does it make?” Cassian replied, “War or no war, you’ll always be fighting for something.”

“It makes all the difference,” Leia returned, “Fighting in the Senate usually doesn’t have as high a probability of death as flying a piece of junk around Imperial airspace.” She shook her head. “What were we _thinking?_ ”

“You weren’t,” Cassian said simply, “That’s what happens when you…” he hesitated, “find someone.”

“It’s different with you and Jyn,” Leia protested, “You two--” she locked her fingers together, “You two just _fit_. Like Shara and Kes. Han and I--” she pulled her hands apart angrily, “We spend more time shouting at each other than anything else.”

Cassian shifted against the comsat panel.

“I wasn’t talking about Jyn and me,” he said lowly, “And, well,” he shrugged, “Even with the two of us, it’s not all like Shara and Kes either.”

Leia looked confused for just a moment before realization dawned.

“Fest,” she said.

He nodded.

“You--” Leia began, then hesitated, looking up at him in apology.

Cassian drew a deep breath.

“We had a son,” he said, “In the middle of the civil war. Two years before we lost the planet.”

“I’m sorry,” Leia said.

Cassian ducked his head quickly, a compulsive gesture of not-quite-acknowledgement.

“What I mean is--” he said in a breath, “--This is war. If you can’t love now, you might never get the chance.”

Leia looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap.

“Cassian,” she said after a pause, “You’re such a romantic.”

“Am _not_ ,” he snorted.

She smiled faintly at him and said, “I really don’t think it’s such a bad thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve just realised that my first move in my first Jyn-and-Cassian-are-together story was to send them to almost literal opposite ends of the galaxy. It’s telling.
> 
> I will be flying across a nauseating number of time zones in the coming week, so updates will be sporadic.


	4. Cadence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn & Co. gain a companion. Cassian and Leia meet someone special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References, well, a lot of [_A Little Bit of Everything_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9274838/chapters/21018893).

“Really?” Jyn said loudly, “ _Really?_ Of all the droids, you had to pick _this_ one?”

“We work well together,” Kes said, “Plus he’s not on the active roster right now, so we’re not stealing official resources.”

“Hurry up,” Han said.

“Come on, Kay,” Kes said, “Let’s get going.”

Kaytoo looked down at him.

“Does Cassian know?” he said doubtfully, “I don’t think he’d be happy to know we _all_ were leaving for an unsanctioned mission into Imperial territory.”

“I’ll comm him,” Han said impatiently, “It’s not like there’s anything he can do about it anyways.”

Kaytoo clumped after Kes into the bowels of the _Falcon_.

“This is a bad idea,” he said.

* * *

Espirion was something like a cross between Fest and Alderaan, Cassian thought as he brought them down to a tightly controlled landing in the planet’s main spaceport. Frosty beauty, jagged mountains.

He reached into his bag and pulled out his coat, tugging it on and absently checking the blaster on his thigh.

“You still wear it,” Leia said, sounding somewhat strangled.

“Hm?” he said absently, poking around in his bag for his gloves.

“That coat. The one with the furry hood you refused to wear when my father gave it to you.”

“Yeah,” Cassian paused, peering at her over his shoulder, lips quirked, “It’s a good coat.”

Leia smiled at him again, clad in subdued browns and greys, hair in a single bun. Cassian approved of this. It would be awkward indeed for her, the last of the Alderaanian royal bloodline, to be recognized here, a planet of historically-disgruntled Alderaanian expats.

“Ready to go?” he asked instead of commenting.

“You’re the one taking your time with your high-fashion, fur-hooded coat from the wrong side of the Clone Wars,” Leia returned, smirking, "I've been waiting patiently for _ages_."

“Right,” Cassian sighed, resigned, “Let’s go.”

From the spaceport, they hired a speeder from a wary Espirion who looked from his red skin to their pale skin and said nothing.

“He’s been staying at a home in Kalapas Field,” Leia said, staring intently over his shoulder at the fuzzy map readout.

Cassian glanced quickly at it, hands steady on the controls, weaving smoothly in and out of the traffic leading away from the spaceport.

“Looks like the middle of nowhere,” he said.

“It was the best place for him,” Leia said, full of regret.

Cassian said nothing, watching the tundra streak by below.

Leia settled behind him in the cockpit, pulling out her datapad and digging through the vaguely horrifying number of urgent communiques that had somehow arrived in the few hours since they’d left Chandrila.

“Oh,” she said, pulling up a recent message, “Jyn said you were out of comm range, so she sent me a text-comm instead saying they were leaving Yavin 4.” She made a face at the back of his seat. “Did you forget to bring your datapad or something? Why’d she comm me?”

“Think about it,” Cassian replied drily, glancing at her over his shoulder, amused.

Leia frowned.

“You’ve been in the Senate for almost half your life,” Cassian said in response to her blank look, “I thought it’d be obvious to you.”

“Oh,” Leia said, then repeated, “Oh.” Her eyes narrowed as she continued reading. “You two are ridiculous. ‘Han says hi’?” She dropped her datapad back into her lap. “Han never says hi.”

“Yeah, we’re working on that.”

Leia scrolled through the rest of the message.

“Oh,” she said again.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Cassian said.

“No, you won’t,” Leia replied, “Jyn said Kes and Kaytoo are with them too.” Under her breath, she muttered, “ _Fark_ you, Han.”

Cassian said nothing. After a moment, he put the speeder on autopilot and pulled his datapad from his bag.

“If you’re going to ’call Han, I wouldn’t bother,” Leia said warily, “Jyn’s message was sent before we even broke atmo. They’d be long gone by now.”

“I’m not ’calling Han,” Cassian said shortly.

“Jyn?” Leia said.

“Shara,” Cassian corrected, frown lines deepening as he typed out a quick message.

“We’ll be back in a few days,” Leia said.

Cassian said nothing, sending off the message with a pointed jab of his finger.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Leia said.

Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose, a painfully familiar gesture.

“When is something ever not wrong?” he replied.

“You can go back now,” Leia said, “I can bring him to meet you back on Yavin 4.”

“No,” Cassian shook his head, firmly, flicking off the autopilot and subtly increasing their speed, “This is important.”

Leia looked at him sidelong and recognized the stubborn set of his mouth.

“You want me to reply?”

Cassian shook his head.

“No need,” he said.

They were silent for the remainder of the trip out until the speeder navicomp beeped an alert, directing them to land in the seemingly deserted village below.

“They’re expecting us?” Cassian asked, running a hand through his hair.

“I told them we’d be here sometime this week,” Leia replied, dropping to the ground beside him.

“And this is… an orphanage?” Cassian said, looking askance at the low, rounded building before them.

“A foster home,” Leia said firmly, “These are good people.”

Cassian said nothing, warily eyeing the horizon.

“You should probably stop that, you know,” Leia said pointedly.

“What?”

“That.”

Cassian looked down and found he had instinctively unhooked the strap on his blaster, grip firmly in hand. He swallowed and resecured his weapon, forcing his hands into his pockets.

“Relax,” Leia said, “You’ll be fine.”

Cassian shot her a wry look.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Ready?”

“No.”

* * *

The Perlemian Trade Run was strange, even in terms of interstellar hyperlanes.

Time passed at half-speed within this region of hyperspace, which meant that every hour felt like two.

“So,” Han said, “I hear you’re having a baby.”

Especially now.

Jyn glared daggers at Kes, who fled, datapad in hand.

“No,” Jyn growled, “We’re adopting.”

“I never took you to be the nurturing type,” Han continued, slouching onto the bench beside her, “Kes said you killed a cactus once.”

“When are you going to stop believing everything Kes says?”

“When it stops being fun.”

Jyn looked witheringly up at him.

“You are so easily amused.”

“I’m an easygoing kind of guy,” Han said, spreading his hands, a sleazy grin on his face.

Jyn snorted and returned to demolishing her meal pack, half an eye on her datapad.

“Heard anything back from His Grumpiness?”

Jyn sighed.

“No,” she said flatly.

“They’ve probably already landed on Espirion. Interesting place. Lots of weird people there.”

“You’d fit right in, then,” Jyn said.

“Yeah, did I tell you about that one time that--”

Sweet merciful _fark_ , she was going to _throttle_ this man--

Her datapad chirped.

Abandoning her meal with remarkable alacrity, she snatched it up, vaulted over the back of the bench, and stalked off to her quarters.

Han watched her go and sighed, drumming his fingers on the table. He eyed her unfinished meal and sniffed appreciatively, reaching for the fork.

* * *

“Myra, Jain, this is Captain Andor, a good friend of mine and my father’s. Captain, Myra and Jain Antilles.” At the look on his face, she clarified quickly, “No relation.”

“No, we can’t all be royalty,” Jain, a round-bellied and round-cheeked and generally round man laughed, gripping Cassian’s hand with a hard, fleshy hand, “It’s good to meet you, Captain.”

“Likewise,” Cassian said politely, extending his hand to Myra, who was the diametric opposite of her brother in all but personality, “And--call me Joren, please.”

“You knew the viceroy well?” Myra asked, dark eyes curious, piercing.

“Joren was Captain of my father’s Royal Guard,” Leia supplied.

“Ah,” Jain said, “That would explain it.”

“Please, come sit,” Myra said, gesturing them down the warm hall to a cheerfully cluttered family room, “I apologize for the mess, Your Highness--”

“Please,” Leia said, laughing, gracefully picking her way through toy blocks and ships and dolls, “Just Leia. And trust me,” she said drily, “I’ve definitely seen worse.”

“I’ll go get him,” Jain said, “Be right back.”

Cassian sat carefully on the edge of a sagging couch. Leia nudged him surreptitiously.

_Relax_ , her eyes laughed.

He sighed quietly, hands clutching his knees.

Myra watched them keenly.

“Your wife, Captain--” she began, turning to Cassian, “What did you say she did?”

He very consciously _hadn’t_ mentioned anything about Jyn because _fly around Imperial airspace with Han Solo blowing things up_ didn’t quite seem like the appropriate thing to say when seeking to adopt a small child.

“She works with starship engineers,” he said, an outright lie, “In the New Republic Navy.”

“Ah, so that’s how you two met, then, was it?”

_Well, actually , she hit my friend in the face with a shovel during her own prison extraction, and then I tried to kill her father._

“Yes,” he said, feeling vaguely hysterical.

“And what do you do now?” Myra continued.

Cassian hesitated, not having expected an _interrogation_.

“Joren’s been overseeing the construction of our new base on Yavin 4,” Leia stepped in again.

It was more or less the truth, and Cassian nodded, picking up the thread.

“Yes, we’re trying to solidify our military presence in the Outer Rim,” he said firmly, glancing at Leia, “Especially while things settle down in the Core.”

“I see,” Myra said.

Jain returned through the door, leading a small boy by the hand.

“Pres,” he said gently, unsuccessfully trying to tug the boy out from behind his legs, “Say hello.”

The boy peeked out from behind the security of Jain’s considerable bulk.

“Hi,” he whispered, a brief thatch of dark curls, and darted back again.

“He’s very shy,” Myra said.

Cassian stood slowly. All eyes fixed on him as he crossed the room to the boy.

He sat down, cross-legged, in front of Jain.

“Hey Pres,” he said softly, “My name’s Joren.”

The boy, gently tugged by Jain’s large hand, cautiously stepped forward, staring at the floor, pressing himself to Jain’s side.

Cassian smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Hi,” he said again, very gently, “I’m very happy to see you.”

Prestor looked up at him then, full in the face, and Cassian stiffened. Behind him, Leia drew in a sharp breath.

Prestor took another step forward, one small hand clinging to Jain, the other outstretched. Cassian reached out slowly, tenderly, and guided it to his face.

“You look like me,” the boy said, touch feather-light, exploring mountains and valleys.

Cassian swallowed.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely, “You look like me too.”

Prestor smiled, and something warm rushed through Cassian’s chest. The boy let go of Jain’s hand, and Cassian caught it, guiding him closer.

“You can see me?” Prestor asked in a small voice.

“Yeah,” Cassian replied, “Is that okay?”

The boy’s sightless eyes shone, brightly.

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just state for the record that I am terrible with children. On a continuum of Han Solo to Shara Bey, I think I might be Anakin Skywalker.


	5. Counterpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian and Jyn discuss the future.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” Myra said to Leia quietly as they sat with Jain in their cozy kitchen, sipping caf from steaming mugs.

“No, I understand,” Leia said frankly, “Who else knows?”

“Just us,” Jain replied, “And the children, but they don’t know who he is.”

“And who is he, exactly?” Leia asked, “I don’t mean to be rude, and I’m pretty sure it’ll make no difference to Joren at this point--” she raised a fond eyebrow in the direction of the family room, where high and low voices matched in cheerful conversation, “--but I’m just curious why you went to such pains to contact me. I appreciate your efforts, of course, but nobility in the Alderaanian sense is all but dead. There is no more Alderaan. There is no need, nor was there ever a need, to value lives from the Royal Houses over those of others.”

Myra and Jain shared a look.

“We’re not entirely sure who his father is,” Jain said slowly, “He arrived on Espirion with so many other children, poor boy. Was terrified out of his mind.”

“You mentioned his mother was Thalia Yanis, one of my father’s state marshals."

“That’s what we were told,” Myra said apologetically, “Along with his surname. Other than that…” she trailed off.

“We thought you just might have liked to know,” Jain continued, “Alderaan lives on in its children.”

“Thank you,” Leia said automatically. Fiddling with her mug, she continued, “I ask also because I know I can’t be the only one to see the resemblance.”

“Yes,” Myra said, “I think we both were a little surprised to see Captain Andor. He’s not from Alderaan, is he?”

“No,” Leia replied, possibly with a little too much honesty, and the conversation lapsed into silence.

They sat there for a moment of peace before Jain was called away by one of the other children who burst through the door from the basement to demand a game of tumble-block because he _promised_ them yesterday if they went to bed on time, and they did, so there.

“You’ve done well by them here,” Leia said quietly, “They are much loved.”

Myra sighed, a heavy sound.

“If we had the means, I would take them all,” she said, “It’s a terrible thing, these wars.”

Leia stared down at her blurred reflection in her caf.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

Myra smiled sadly at her, head cocked.

“From what I hear,” she said, “You’re doing more than any of us.”

Leia shook her head, thinking of her father.

“For me, at least,” Myra continued, “Starting this family--” she gestured at the crowded home around her, “Brought me more happiness than I ever could have imagined.” Shrewdly, she said, “And that happiness is what keeps me fighting. What gives me hope.”

Leia smiled crookedly, feeling the burden she carried grow heavier, weigh her down.

At that moment, Cassian returned from the family room, Prestor in his arms. Leia took a moment just to look. She’d seen him with Poe before, of course, perfectly at ease with a child in the same arms that had lifted blasters and strangled grown men, but this--this was different.

Cassian’s smile broadened at the look on her face.

“You look like you’ve done this before,” Myra said warmly, eyebrows raised.

“I’ve had a little practice,” Cassian replied, grunting as he shifted Prestor to his other hip. “You’re a little too big for this, don’t you think?” he said to the boy.

“No,” Prestor replied, burying his face in Cassian’s neck.

“I think this is it, then,” Myra said, equally pained and overjoyed, “I’ll go gather his things.”

“I’ll go with you,” Cassian said, playfully bobbing Prestor up and down, laughing just as the boy laughed.

“No,” Leia said, also standing, “You should ’call Jyn. I’ll help.”

Faintly horrified at the idea of the Princess of Alderaan helping pack the equivalent of a diaper bag, Myra began to protest, but Leia raised her chin regally and said loftily, “I command it.”

Myra blinked, then recovered, saying with a low, sweeping bow, “As you wish, Princess.”

Both women departed for the stairs, snickering.

Prestor cocked his head, listening to them leave.

“Is she really a princess?” he asked shyly.

“Yes,” Cassian said, sinking into a chair at the recently-vacated dining table and pulling out his datapad, Prestor settling in his lap, “She is.”

“What is she princess of?”

Cassian smiled faintly.

“The galaxy,” he replied, “She’s everyone’s princess.”

* * *

Jyn accepted the incoming holocall with trembling hands.

Cassian’s face sprang to life on her screen, very fuzzy and distorted from the impossible physics of establishing a connection in the alternate time scale of the hyperspatial Perlemian Trade Run.

“Hey,” she said, smiling because they were alone.

“Hi,” he replied, and she could only just tell he was smilnng too.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

Cassian grinned, a terribly rare, frighteningly beautiful sight.

“You want to talk to him?” he returned playfully.

“You really don’t want me to answer that,” Jyn replied, smiling nervously now.

 _Don’t worry_ , Cassian’s eyes said, _Don’t worry, it’ll be fine_.

He scooted his datapad back and propped it up on on something so she could see the little boy in his lap.

Her first thought was nothing more than an incoherent exclamation of surprise.

Her second thought was _Chirrut_.

“Hi Pres,” she said softly, “I’m Jyn.”

The boy cocked his head, dark curls falling into his clouded eyes.

“Hi Jyn,” he said, very small and very shy.

Jyn felt her smile widen, split her face in two. She wanted to crawl through the screen to them. Han could go liberate Kashyyyk on his own, fark him.

“You have very pretty eyes,” she said, “You know what they remind me of?”

“What?” the boy asked with wary curiosity.

“The sea,” Jyn said, looking at Cassian, “Have you ever been to the sea?”

“No,” Prestor replied, shifting back into Cassian’s chest, “It’s just ice here. Lots of ice.”

Something in Jyn melted.

“Where are you from, Jyn?” Prestor asked, “You don’t sound like Cassian.”

“I’m from many places,” Jyn replied, “Like you.”

“You mean your mom and dad are dead too?”

Cassian’s fond smile faded a little, and so did Jyn’s.

“Yes,” she said, “But I’ve also got another family now, you know. A new one that found me.”

Prestor frowned, a small jutting of his lower lip. He thought hard.

“Like you and Cassian,” he said finally.

 _Oh no,_ Jyn thought, _He’s going to be a clever one_.

“Yeah,” she replied, throat closing abruptly. Her words came out hoarse. “Like me and Cassian.”

The boy reached out instinctively toward the hololens as if he could touch her before remembering and dropping them back into his lap.

“Does that mean I have’ta call you Mom and Dad?” he asked.

“No,” Cassian said, when Jyn bit her lip, shaking her head, “Not unless you want to.”

Prestor cocked his head again, thin face serious and still.

“Okay,” he said.

“Do you want to come stay with us, Pres?” Cassian murmured into the boy’s hair, “You’ll have to leave Myra and Jain and all your friends.”

Prestor craned his neck, reaching up with a small hand to touch the scruff on Cassian’s jaw.

“I like Myra and Jain,” he said, “But the other kids don’t like me. Because I’m--” he looked down again, hiding his face, “--different.”

“We’re all a little different,” Jyn said, having rescued her voice from drowning in a tide of emotion.

“Like you and Cassian are different,” Prestor said, “But you still like each other.”

“Yes,” Jyn said, smiling slightly, “We do.”

“I think I like you too,” he said at last, very gravely.

“Thank you,” Jyn replied, just as seriously.

“Hey, Pres!” called an unfamiliar voice from off-camera, “Come check and see if we missed anything!”

The boy scooted down from Cassian’s lap with remarkable surety and carefully wound his way across the room to the stairs.

Cassian watched him go, longing mixed with sadness on his face.

“Who did Leia say his parents were again?” Jyn asked, throwing herself down on her bunk, “Because, fark, he really could be your actual son.”

Cassian shook his head, a little bewildered.

“I think Leia only knew his mother,” he replied, “That caught me by surprise too.”

“Well, that wasn’t the only thing,” Jyn said.

“Yeah.”

Jyn curled up on her side, looking seriously at him.

“Are we ready for this?” she asked honestly.

Cassian sighed, longing and sadness again.

“He needs a home,” he said, “A proper home.”

“But can we give it to him?” Jyn pressed, “I’m flying through Imperial hyperspace on a junk heap, and you’re the commanding officer of New Republic Intelligence in the Outer Rim. The Empire hasn’t really been defeated yet, and both of us are still very much on the front lines.”

“Jyn,” he said gently, “We’ve talked about this.”

Jyn looked away.

“I know,” she said quietly, “I just--don’t want to screw this up.”

Cassian turned away sharply, pressing a hand to his face, shielding his eyes from view. Blocking her off.

“Cassian--”

“--If you feel like--”

They both stopped at the the same time.

“No,” Jyn said, “I want to. Of course I _want_ to. I’m just asking if we _should_.”

That same hunted look stole across Cassian’s face, the kind that he wore in the early hours of each morning spent forgetting the night's half-remembered shadows.

“Jyn,” he sighed, then stopped, looking away vacantly. “You know that I wouldn’t ever want to try again if I thought we shouldn’t.”

“I know,” Jyn said.

“But,” he drew in a breath, “You know what I’m going to say.”

“Yeah,” Jyn said, “‘If not now, when?’”

Cassian smiled sadly at her, painfully old and tired.

“I trust you,” she said.

“I know,” he said.

“Hey, are you talking to Jyn?” came Leia’s voice.

Cassian looked up, shaking hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, standing and offering his chair.

“Sit,” Leia said, pushing him back down and peering over his shoulder, “I just wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” Jyn said.

“Hi,” Leia said, “Punch Han in face for me, would you? Right on the nose will do.”

“Of course, General,” Jyn replied.

“Thank you,” Leia said, and turned back to Cassian. “We’re ready whenever you are.”

“That was fast,” Cassian said.

“I know how to prioritize,” Leia replied smartly, sweeping off.

Jyn waited until she was out of earshot to ask, “Do I want to know?”

“She’s pregnant,” Cassian said.

“Oh,” Jyn said, sitting up, “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.”

“That would explain it.”

“How’s Han?”

“Terrified, now that I think about it."

Cassian shrugged.

“Sounds about right.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Jyn said.

“I know.”

“You seem to know a lot of things, _Captain_ Andor.”

“Yeah.”

They looked at each other.

“Okay,” Jyn said, “Well. Let _me_ know when you’re back home. We’ll probably be on Kashyyyk by then, but--” she shrugged, “--leave me a message anyways.”

“I will. Be safe.”

“I’ll try.”

With one last crooked smile, Cassian cut the connection, and Jyn was left staring at her own dull reflection.

She stared blankly at the durasteel wall. This feeling of longing was still new enough to hurt a little, so she stood, datapad tucked under an arm, and set out to punch Han Solo right on the nose.


	6. Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian have an actual talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've flown something like 15,000 miles in the past three days, so please forgive any incoherence.

Kes was already half-awake when he heard footsteps creep by their door.

“I got it,” he mumbled to Shara, rolling to his feet and clawing sleep from his eyes.

“Think‘t’s my turn,” Shara slurred, pawing at his shoulder.

“I’m already up,” Kes said, “Go back to sleep, woman.”

“Fark you,” Shara grumbled, turning over obligingly and pulling his pillow over her head.

Kes pulled on yesterday’s shirt and slouched out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind him.

He peeked first into the nursery and found only Poe snoozing contentedly, curled up on his side like a little round lump of dough. He closed that door gently and slipped out onto the back porch, shrugging into his coat and snatching Cassian’s down off its hook.

Kes turned and saw a thin, slight figure limping slowly across the grassy clearing. Sighing, he grabbed the cane leaning against the bench by the door and hurried down the steps, jogging to catch up. His bare feet made no sound in the tender grass, but Cassian heard him approach nonetheless, stopping and turning, resignation on his face.

“You didn’t have to--” he began.

“--Shut up,” Kes said, throwing his jacket at his face.

Cassian shoved one arm into a sleeve, struggled with the second, and gave up, draping it over his shoulder instead. Kes shoved the walking stick into his hand.

“What was it this time?” he asked.

Cassian swallowed, pale and drawn in the pre-dawn light.

“Scarif,” he admitted. When Kes said nothing, he added, “I’m sorry.”

“Cut it out, Cass,” Kes said wearily.

They each looked away.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Kes asked, after an interminable period of silence.

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

“Try me,” Kes said.

Instead of responding, Cassian shoved his hands into his pockets and set out again across the grass.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Kes said under his breath, following.

They entered the forest on the far side of the clearing, and Kes knew immediately where they were headed.

“I’ve been offered a promotion,” Cassian said suddenly, brow furrowed.

"Uh. Okay," Kes replied, “You could be a little happier about that."

“They’re recommissioning Base One,” Cassian continued, eyes fixed on the ground ahead, “I’ve been asked to take command.”

“Wait, _what?_ ” Kes spluttered, “Take command of the whole _base?_ ”

“Sen-- _Chancellor_ Mothma ’called me directly,” Cassian said, “Since General Dodonna’s death, there’s been a--” he hesitated, continuing with a curled lip, “-- _vacancy_ in High Command. She thinks I’d be better filling that than continuing my work with Intelligence.”

“What about Draven?”

Cassian shot him a look.

“So he’s gone too?” Kes muttered, “Figures.”

Cassian sighed.

“We’ve fought for so long for the same thing,” he said bitterly, “And they’re still too afraid to trust.”

“But, I mean, can you blame them?" Kes asked, "Mothma’s got all the same powers as Palpatine did during the Clone Wars, and if we didn’t know her like we do, we’d have gone with Bel Iblis too, holed up on some rock, waiting for the day she starts calling herself Empress.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Cassian said in exasperation, “Why can’t they _see_ that?”

“Hey,” Kes said, glancing sidelong at him, “You’re talking about the same people who wouldn’t support the mission to Scarif. I honestly don’t know why you’re surprised.”

But he did. He knew why Bel Iblis’s distrust had cut as sharply as it had, fracturing a friendship between Senator and spy that had been carefully planted and nurtured by Bail Organa before his death.

“Anyways, really, Cass,” Kes continued before the brooding could begin again, “I think you should take it. Honestly, who would be a better fit? You’ve spent basically your whole career with the Rebellion here on Yavin 4. And besides,” he shrugged, “It’ll be the first step.”

Cassian made a face.

“First step to what?”

“Domestication,” Kes replied cheekily.

“Fark you,” Cassian said.

“Before you know it, you’ll be popping out babies of your own.”

Cassian eyed him and said, “I really hope not.”

Kes prodded him in the shoulder.

“You know what I mean. Have you and Jyn actually talked about this?”

“About what?”

Kes rolled his eyes.

“About _life after the Rebellion_ , you shakka-brained gundark.”

Cassian looked back down at the ground, brushing the low-hanging branches of a young Massassi tree out of his face.

“No,” he replied.

“ _Fark_ ,” Kes muttered, “What have you two been doing all day? Making lovey eyes at each other? Staring into the shallow depths of your tiny, shriveled souls?”

“What?” Cassian said, all irritated confusion.

Kes sighed.

“Never mind.”

They followed the winding single-track trail through the trees in silence, emerging, at last, upon a secluded, shaded clearing whispering with the burbling of a clear, cold stream.

“Oh look,” Kes said, completely unsurprised, “It’s Jyn.”

Jyn, perched on a large, flat rock surrounded by bioluminescent orchids, turned to face them.

“What are you doing here?” Cassian said sharply.

“I’m going to go now,” Kes said, turning on his heel.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jyn replied evenly, eyes gleaming.

“Please don’t kill each other,” Kes said from the clearing’s edge, “Believe it or not, my son likes you guys.”

Cassian hovered uncertainly in between the two.

“Bye,” Kes said, turning and melting away into the trees.

Cassian turned back to Jyn.

“Are you just going to stand there?” she demanded.

Cassian swallowed a petty retort and sank down by her side, staring away into the trees.

“I want to stay,” Jyn said into the whispering silence.

He turned, warily, to look at her.

“Stay?” he asked.

“In the Rebellion,” she said.

“Oh,” he said, "Okay."

He studied the glowing orchids, the way they cast soft pink shadows across her face.

“I also want to stay with you,” Jyn said in a rush.

Pink became red.

Cassian looked at her sharply. The orchids at his feet glowed golden-brown, rich and strong.

“Mon Mothma wants to take me out of the field,” he said.

Red became purple, nebulous, uncertain.

“She wants you here, on Yavin 4,” Jyn said.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. Jyn shrugged.

“It’s obvious,” she said, “Who else would she trust to rebuild Base One? You were here from the beginning, weren’t you.”

“Over thirteen years ago,” he said before he could catch himself, weariness weighing heavily in his words.

Purple became deep, rich blue.

“Han wants me to stay with the Pathfinders, especially since Kes is _retired_.” Her face spoke disdain, but her words spoke fondness. “We’d be based here, I think,” she continued, “After everything’s up and running again.”

Blue became tentative green, new, young growth.

They looked at each other.

“I--” Cassian’s throat was dry, and he choked on the words, licking his lips and continuing, “That would be nice.”

Green became burnished gold, sweeping them together.

Jyn shifted slightly, inching closer to him. He stared at the horizon through the trees.

“Jyn,” he began, strained.

“I know,” she said.

He looked at her, so close beside him, and realized that she did.

They sat together in silent comfort, wreathed in gold, and watched the sun rise.


	7. Nocturne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens (a little).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References the "Beginnings" miniseries and a whole host of EU work.

The moment they broke atmo over Yavin 4, Cassian sent Jyn one of the messages they both had saved on their datapads for quick access.

_Back home._

The other saved messages included:

_Delayed. We’re fine._

_I’m going to murder Han, I swear._

_____ says hi._

_Stop worrying._

_Delayed._

_Delayed. Not looking good._

He’d sent this last just once, two months ago in the trenches on Fest, defending the evacuation, certain that this time, there would be no Loom Carplin to pull him from the rubble.

Jyn had been furiously terrified, bullying her way across the galaxy from Saijo almost before Prince Sereno had ordered a full surrender, putting an end to the brief, bloody Nagai-Tof War.

He’d sat on an upturned crate in a dusty storeroom on Generis and listened wearily as she’d shouted. He hadn’t apologized, and she hadn’t asked him to, seeing the grief and frustration in his eyes--his planet lost to the Empire, _again_ \--and wrapped her arms around him in a rare moment of transparent emotion.

And that was when she had met Travia Chan.

As uncomfortable situations went, well, he’d had worse, but not by far.

Blinking himself back to the present, he realized Leia had cut the engines, having skillfully negotiated them to the landing pad nearest the speeder bay.

“Are we here?” Pres asked from his lap, small and nervous.

“Yeah,” Cassian said roughly, unbuckling their safety restraints and forcing some lightness into his voice, “This is Yavin 4.”

Leia shot him a look, obviously catching his sudden shift in mood, but he ignored her, standing with Prestor in his arms.

“Down or up?” he asked the boy, who hesitated, one hand fisted loosely in Cassian’s shirt.

“Down,” Pres said firmly, chin set, and Cassian smiled, setting him down and taking his hand, pulling both their rucksacks over his shoulder.

“I’ll get the speeder,” Leia said, gracefully climbing to her feet, “You guys take your time.” Then, she paused suddenly, her eyes going distant for a moment. “Oh,” she said, blinking, “Or not.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow, tensing automatically. Pres cocked his head, listening.

“Someone’s coming,” he said.

“Yeah,” Leia replied, sweeping for the door, “Grand Master General Jedi Whatever Skywalker approaches,” she said drily, making Pres giggle shyly, pressed to Cassian’s side. “Don’t worry,” she said to the boy, “He’s just my brother. And I’m older.”

Cassian heard it now, the whine of repulsors, doubtless one of those new sleek model PT-095s, modified within an inch of spontaneous combustion by this bright, bouncing ball of a Jedi. He sighed, steeling himself for the deluge of enthusiasm.

Leia smiled wryly at him and hopped to the ground, moving to intercept. Cassian followed, reaching back up and lifting Pres down, taking his hand firmly again.

After a moment of hesitation, he crouched before the boy and said, “You need to tell me if I’m doing something wrong,” he said quietly, smoothing back Pres’s dark curls, “If I’m helping too much. Or not enough.”

Birdlike, Pres angled his face up towards, then past him.

“This place feels flat,” he said, “But I hear trees? Big trees.”

“Yeah,” Cassian said, “That’s right.”

“I can do okay, then,” Pres said confidently, “At least here.”

“Okay,” Cassian said, warmth coiling in his stomach.

He stood and turned in time to see Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan, Senator of the New Republic, punch Luke Skywalker, Grand Master General Jedi Whatever, in the shoulder. He sighed and set off across the ferrocrete towards them, Pres in tow.

“Cassian!” Luke called, grinning brightly, waving his left hand, his flesh hand.

“Cassian?” Pres repeated, confused, “I thought your name was Joren.”

“It’s one of my names,” Cassian said carefully, looking down at him as they walked.

“Which one do you like better?” Pres asked.

“My friends call me Cassian.”

“Okay,” Pres said. After a pause, he said, “I like Cassian better too.”

Cassian smiled to himself.

“Luke,” he said to the Jedi as they approached, “It’s good to see you.”

Luke, rubbing his shoulder where Leia had punched him, grinned still more broadly.

“So it’s finally happened,” he exclaimed, “Congratulations!”

Pres leaned into Cassian, eyes on the ground.

“This is Pres,” Cassian said, nudging the boy forward, “Pres, this is Luke, big bad Jedi.”

Pres looked up slowly, self-consciously.

“Hi,” he said very quietly.

“Hey!” Luke said, crouching before him, “You’re a lucky kid. Cassian’s the coolest guy around. Except for me, of course.”

Pres cocked his head.

“You’re a Jedi?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah,” Luke replied, all excited enthusiasm, “Here--feel my hand.”

Leia sighed and rolled her eyes.

Luke ignored her and stuck out his right hand, the cybernetic one, and Pres reached out tentatively, running a careful hand over the sleek metal surface.

“Wow,” he breathed, eyes wide, reflecting the sky above, “This is cool.”

Luke wiggled his fingers, and Pres giggled, feeling the microscopic servos churn and turn beneath his hand.

“Are both of your hands like this?” Pres asked as Luke flipped his hand over, allowing Pres to explore the molded palm.

“Nah, just this one,” Luke said, “I’m not as cool as you.”

Pres bit his lip, holding back another smile.

Leia cleared her throat loudly.

“Finished?” she said, arching an eyebrow, “I think Cassian’d like to get them settled in.”

Luke’s smile faded a little.

“Yeah,” he said, standing. He shifted uneasily, entirely transparent. “Look,” he said to Cassian, “I know you’re supposed to be on leave this week--”

“--oh _fark_ , not you too,” Leia muttered.

Pres made a little squeak of surprise at the sound of such foul language tumbling from the mouth of the _princess of the galaxy_.

“ _S_ _orry_ ,” Leia said quickly.

Luke ignored her again, continuing, “--but there’s something I could really use your help with here on Yavin 4. You know this place better than anyone.”

Cassian glared at him.

“Really?” he demanded.

“Look,” Luke said, holding both hands up placatingly, “I’ll ’call you tonight and explain. It’s not a really urgent thing, but it _is_ a really important thing.”

Cassian sighed.

“Fine,” he said warningly, “But I’m not promising anything.”

“Thanks,” Luke said genuinely, turning to Leia and saying, “I need to talk to you too.”

Leia caught herself just before she swore again and gestured towards the distant hangar.

“Well, lead the way, then,” she said, exasperated, “Let them take your stupid speeder. They’re heading all the way back to Vornez.”

“Oh,” Luke said, “Say hey to Shara and Kes, would you?”

“Ah,” Cassian began.

“I’ll tell him,” Leia said, grabbing her brother by the arm and spinning him around, marching him away.

Cassian watched them leave, equally amused and resigned.

“That was Luke Skywalker, wasn’t it?” Pres asked, very small and quiet beside him, “General Skywalker?”

“Yeah,” Cassian grunted, lifting him into Luke’s ridiculous speeder and eyeing the mess of controls on the console. Honestly, how many boosters could one possibly need?

“And his sister’s Princess Leia, from Alderaan.”

“Yeah.”

Cassian hopped into the pilot’s seat, rummaging around in his rucksack for a battered old pair of goggles he’d carried with him for years. He pressed them over Pres’s face and tightened the strap all the way.

“You seem like you’re really good friends,” Pres continued, touching the smudged transpariplast curiously.

“We are.”

Cassian buckled the safety restraint--still gleaming, obviously never used--around both of them and fired up the engine. Despite himself, he grinned, feeling the speeder thrum around him.

 _Fark_ , he might have a shot at making it to Vornez in under an hour in this thing.

“Did you fight in the war?”

 _Which one?_ He almost asked.

“I did,” he replied instead, poking Pres in the shoulder, “Now, no more questions, I need to fly us out of here, nosy.”

Pres settled back obediently against his chest, warm and comfortable, and they lifted off into the sky.

* * *

Cassian nudged the front door shut behind them and set their rucksacks down on the floor.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Pres looked up at him, brow furrowed. Cassian realized he was listening intently. He waited.

“You want a tour?” he asked after several long moments.

“Yeah,” Pres said eagerly, toeing off his soft moccasins and wriggling his toes against the polished wood.

Cassian took his hand and led him slowly down the front entryway.

“Left here,” he said with a gentle nudge, “This is the kitchen. You’ll never find Jyn in here.”

He hovered in the doorway and watched the boy explore, tentatively at first, then pulling open cabinets and drawers, feeling around. Through the kitchen was the dining room, just a small, round table with four chairs. Beyond that was the family room and a small ‘fresher. Cassian led him down the narrow hall to their two bedrooms, both the same size.

“You don’t have a lot of stuff,” Pres said, trailing a hand down a wall, “It feels kind of empty.”

It was the truth, Cassian knew. He and Kes had only just placed the finishing touches on the house a few months ago, knowing that he and Jyn would likely be spending more time either down at the base or offworld dodging blaster bolts.

“But it’s neat,” Pres continued, looking up at him, “I like neat.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They wound up on the back porch, and Cassian shaded his eyes against the sun.

“You want to go meet some people?” he asked, “Or you want to stay here for a bit and unpack?”

“What people?” Pres asked nervously.

“My cousin and her son, my nephew.”

“I don’t know,” Pres said, clutching Cassian’s hand.

“Well, they’re our only neighbors, so you’re going to have to meet them eventually,” Cassian said, sitting on the top step with a grunt. Pres carefully sat beside him.

“I don’t--” Pres began uncomfortably, “I don’t--like meeting new people. Is that weird?”

Cassian huffed a laugh.

“No,” he said, “It’s not weird. I don't like it either.”

A door creaked shut.

“Oh. Well,” Cassian said, turning, “Looks like you don’t have a choice. Here she comes. Oh, and with Poe too.”

He remained lounging on the rear steps, Pres at his side, as Shara rounded the corner.

“Hey!” she said brightly, “Welcome back!”

“‘Ncle Cass!” Poe chirped, waving his hands.

Cassian stood stiffly, heaving Pres into his arms.

“Shara, Pres,” he said simply, “Pres--” he made a face, “--Auntie Shara.”

Shara smothered a laugh and said, “Hello, Pres, it’s good to finally meet you. We’ve all been really excited.”

“Hi,” Pres said shyly.

“This is my son Poe,” Shara said, bobbing the toddler in her arms, “He’s only two, so he can’t talk much, but he’s very excited to see you too.”

Poe made a happy hiccuping sound and lunged out of his mother’s arms, reaching for Pres, who held a hand out uncertainly.

“Baby,” he said, surprised, when his hands found Poe’s soft face.

“Kind of,” Cassian replied, smiling.

Shara watched them and, for a sharp, pained moment, thought she was back on Fest.

But then Pres turned his milky-blue eyes on her, and she reminded herself that Jeron had never seen six years.

Cassian swallowed, struck suddenly by the same thought, and waved her into the house.

“Have you heard from Kes?” he asked conversationally, setting Pres back down.

“Yeah, he ’called us this morning,” Shara replied, sitting on the large rug spread across the floor and setting Poe on his feet beside her, “They’re still in hyperspace.”

Cassian shared a look with her that wasn’t--quite--sympathy.

“Just--” Shara said with a sigh, “I’m just trying not to think about it.”

“Yeah.”

He watched Prestor and Poe regard each other silently. Poe laughed unexpectedly and tottered forward, straight into the older boy, who stood, frozen as Poe wrapped his arms around him.

“Well,” Shara said, leaning back against the couch, “I think my job here is done. Look at that. Best friends.” She eyed him mischievously, “Must run in the family.”

Cassian smiled wryly, and his passing glance became close scrutiny.

“Cut it out, Cassian,” Shara said wearily, sweeping her thick, dark hair out of her eyes, “I’m fine.”

He shook his head and looked away.

“Luke and Leia say hi, by the way,” he said, “Luke came and dragged Leia off when we landed.”

“Oh. It’s been a while. How’re they doing?”

“You heard about the X-wing.”

“Yeah. Someone tried to blow him up?”

“Mmm.”

Shara sighed.

Pres sat down in the middle of the rug, Poe in his lap. They were, for some purpose surpassing ordinary human understanding, poking each other in the face.

“Luke said he needed my help,” Cassian said finally.

“Aren’t you on leave?”

“Yeah,” Cassian said drily, “But what does that really mean, anyways?”

Shara looked at him cautiously.

“Did he say what for?”

Cassian shook his head, hair falling in his face. He grimaced, pushing it aside.

“He said he’d ’call tonight.”

“That sounds ominous.”

Cassian shrugged, fiddling with a loose thread from the rug that had attached itself to his trouser leg.

“In more ominous news...” Shara began hesitantly, wincing.

Cassian turned to face her full-on, full of dread.

“What is it?” he asked.

Shara looked out the floor-to-ceiling transpariplast windows and shook her head.

“I got a ’call from Travia Chan,” she said in disbelief, “She said she was trying to get hold of you.”

“Ah, fark,” Cassian said quietly, “I forgot to have Kay configure my new comm unit to receive forwarded messages.” He plucked the thread from the rug a little violently. “Did she say what she needed?”

“No.” Shara shook her head. “Just that she was trying to reach you and that you should give her a ’call when you could.”

Cassian scrubbed a hand across his face, two days’ worth of nonstop interstellar travel settling deep in his bones.

“Alright,” he said reluctantly, “Would you mind--”

“-- _I’m_ retired. You aren’t,” Shara said, “Go.”

Cassian stood, and Pres turned, sensing this.

“I just need to make a ‘call,” Cassian said reassuringly, “I’ll be right back.”

The boy pressed his lips together and blinked rapidly, turning quickly away.

Cassian and Shara shared a glance, and he headed reluctantly down the hall to his office, locking the door behind him.

He dialed Travia’s holoreceiver by memory, checking the chrono on the wall. Fark. But it wasn’t as if she’d ever kept regular hours, even on Generis.

True to form, she picked up on the second ring, face fizzling into existence above his holoprojector.

“Travia,” he said without preamble, “Sorry I missed you..”

“I understand you’re on leave,” she replied, remarkably calmly for someone whose homeworld had been reclaimed by the Empire a second time just two months previous. “I’m sorry to disturb it.”

Cassian shrugged, eyebrows raised.

Travia sighed.

“We’ve intercepted some intelligence on the new long-range comsat arrays in the ORCC,” she said, launching immediately into a report because now the tables had been turned, and he was her superior. “Something about a Jedi city on Yavin 4. The Empire’s taken notice of the fact that Base One has returned to operational status, and they think that’s the reason why.”

Cassian frowned.

“Jedi city?” he said, “You mean a city of Jedi? Or a city built by Jedi? Skywalker’s the only one we know about--” _officially_ , he thought, “--and I don’t think it’s any big secret that he’s been spending his free time looking for children to train.”

“I don’t know,” Travia replied frankly, “But the intelligence came from the higher echelons on Coruscant, so I thought it was something you should hear about personally, and sooner rather than later.”

“Yes. Thanks,” Cassian said, brow furrowed. “I’ll look into it.”

Travia nodded, and here was where their conversations had typically ended, all information having been exchanged.

“I wanted to thank you, Cassian,” she said suddenly, interrupting his churning thoughts, “For what you did to assist in the evacuation. I never got the chance.”

He looked up at her, surprised.

“I’m sorry again,” he said darkly, “I wish--”

“--They had always planned on returning to Fest,” Travia said, “And the New Republic is in no position to wage another full scale battle over some Outer Rim planet. I understand.”

And yet, the pain was there.

“If there’s anything I can do,” Cassian said firmly, “Promise me you’ll let me know.”

“You have my word.”

They regarded each other in silence across yawning space and time for another long moment.

“I’ll keep you informed of the situation,” Travia said, shattering the moment.

“Thank you,” Cassian said, dipping his head in acknowledgement.

“May the Force be with you, Cassian.”

“And with you.”


	8. Modulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interstellar conference call for the ages.

To the casual passerby, Warrin Station was a complete, karking mess of a space station, a hodgepodge of spare parts held together only by prayer and the sheer stubborn will of its occupants.

It was one of Han Solo’s favorite places in the galaxy.

“Figures,” Jyn muttered sourly.

“The structural integrity of Warrin Station is at 43%,” Kaytoo said in a voice reeking of derision, “I cannot advise that we leave this ship.”

“Forty-three?” Han said, “That’s gotta be a record--” he paused and looked around the room, “--high.”

Kes sighed and warily checked his blaster, resigned.

“Chewie’s said he’s got a good group of people together,” Han said, opening the entry hatch, “I’ll just pick him up, and then we’ll be set. Anyone wanna come, stretch their legs a little?”

No one spoke.

Han raised his eyebrows.

Kes sighed.

“ _Fine_ ,” he grumbled, “I’m already here. Can’t let you start another cantina fight.”

“Hey!” Han protested, hopping out of the ship, “He shot first!”

Their bickering faded, and Jyn breathed a sigh of relief, turning for her quarters. Then, for some Force-forsaken reason, she hesitated. And turned reluctantly.

“You want to talk to Cassian?” she asked Kaytoo, “I’m going to try ’calling him.”

Kaytoo looked down at her, white optics shifting, servos whirring.

“We should inform him of our change in destination,” Kaytoo said primly, “Warrin Station was not on the itinerary.”

Jyn rolled her eyes.

“Well, Force forbid Cassian be misled by our _itinerary_ ,” she said, gesturing down the hall, “Come on."

* * *

“I’ve had a vision,” Luke said.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Cassian replied, slumping back in his seat.

Across from him--because Luke Skywalker, Grand Master Jedi General Whatever, had had his sister fly him all the way out to Vornez to reclaim his precious speeder--Luke shook his head.

“It was Ben,” the young Jedi said.

“Even better,” Cassian muttered.

“ _Cassian_ ,” Luke said, exasperated, “Would you at least let me finish?”

Cassian sloshed more Corellian brandy into his glass, wishing it was of the Alderaanian variety.

But no. Alderaan was gone. In its place was the burden of guilt.

He swallowed and tipped his glass towards Luke, gesturing for him to continue.

“Ben said the Lost City of the Jedi is here, on Yavin 4,” Luke said.

“You’re both out of your farking minds,” Cassian said bluntly, “If there’s a Jedi city here, we’d have found it years ago when we first scouted the planet.”

“He said it was underground.”

Cassian paused, glass halfway to his lips.

“What?” he said dumbly.

“Ben said the city was underground.” Luke looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Underground,” Cassian repeated.

“Yeah.

“A Jedi city.”

“Yeah.”

Luke drew the word out, looking at him askance.

“Who have you told about this?” Cassian demanded.

“Just Leia,” Luke replied, “And now you. Why?”

Cassian drained his glass and set it down heavily on his desk.

“Because,” he enunciated clearly, “Travia Chan recently intercepted an outgoing communique about a Jedi city on Yavin 4. From Coruscant.”

Luke’s eyes widened a little.

“I should have retired when I had the chance,” Cassian muttered, listening to Shara and Leia and the children laugh on the other side of the wall.

“Do you know where it could be? Anything at all?” Luke asked, “Because if the Empire knows about it, you can be sure they’ll be coming here, and I don’t think I need to explain why Jedi secrets in the hands of the Empire would be a bad thing.”

“I think it’d be bad enough if the Empire showed up at all,” Cassian said grimly, “We’re not ready, and we definitely won’t be for a while.”

“I saw what you’ve done with the Woola,” Luke said, “It’s good work.”

“The Woola?” Cassian repeated blankly.

“The old palace,” Luke clarified, blushing, “‘The Palace of the Woolamander’ or something?”

“Ah,” Cassian said.

“But--” Luke said shaking his head vigorously, golden-brown hair flying everywhere, “--Do you know where the entrance could be? Any underground passages, that sort of thing?”

“Luke,” Cassian sighed, acutely feeling the seven years separating the two of them, “The question isn’t whether or not there are any underground passages. Half the palace is underground.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you know how big this city is?"

“It has a library,” Luke said unhelpfully. At Cassian’s withering look, he said unhappily, “I didn’t even know it existed until Ben told me.”

“He couldn’t have just told you where the entrance was instead of saying it had a _library?_ ”

“The Force--”

“--works in mysterious ways,” Cassian completed with a snarl, “Believe me, I’ve heard that before.”

Luke sat back and fidgeted.

“Look,” Cassian said after a few minutes’ silent contemplation, “I can spare a few ground units, send them out with you and maybe get Green or--” he hesitated, very briefly, “--Rogue Squadron to do some flyover scans, but honestly--”

“--it’ll take forever,” Luke said.

“Yeah,” Cassian looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

Luke shrugged.

“Why? Just because you built the place doesn’t mean I can expect you to know everything about it. Besides,” he said, standing and stretching, “If anything, it’ll be a nice break.”

“From almost getting blown up in your X-wing.”

Luke’s face darkened.

“Yeah,” he said, “Something like that.”

Cassian stood too. Something, some guilt, some nagging debt, some forgotten promise prodded him to speak.

“You know,” he said quietly, “You’re always welcome here. And I don’t just mean on Yavin 4.”

Luke ducked his head, a crooked smile spreading across his boyish face.

“Yeah,” he said, suddenly shy, “Thanks.”

Cassian’s holoreceiver beeped right at that moment, and he sighed, resigned to another request for “immediate assistance, immediately” from the rookie grounds crew down at the base.

“Sorry,” he muttered to Luke, who shrugged wryly.

Cassian smacked a palm down on the receiver.

Instead of Sergeant Platt, Jyn Erso flickered to life before him, shimmering, blue and beauti--

Kaytoo shoved his face in front of the hololens.

Cassian recoiled instinctively.

“We have made an unscheduled stop at Warrin Station,” Kaytoo said, still very close to the hololens.

“Ah,” Cassian said, “Thank you.”

“The structural integrity of Warrin Station has decreased to 40%,” Kaytoo continued, “I advised against initiating docking procedures, but Han Solo insisted, so what was I supposed to have done?”

Luke choked back a laugh.

“Nothing, Kay,” Cassian said patiently, “I understand.”

“We’ve been trying to ’call you for a while,” Jyn said, shoving Kaytoo aside, “I’m surprised we actually got through.”

Then, she blinked.

“Oh,” she said, “Luke. Hi.”

“You don’t have to sound so disappointed,” Luke said.

There was a small commotion behind Jyn, and the door to the _Falcon_ ’s comm center swished open.

“Oh. Hey Cass,” Kes said.

“Han!” Luke exclaimed, “Chewie!”

“Hey, kid,” Han said, grinning.

Chewbacca roared a greeting.

“Wait,” Luke said, “Let me get Leia. She’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Uh--” Han began, but Luke was already out the door.

Everyone took a deep breath.

“This is going to go well,” Kes said, leaning back against the wall.

Han swore, running a hand across his jaw.

Cassian poured himself another drink.

 _Stop that_ , Jyn’s eyes said.

He downed it in one go without breaking eye contact.

Jyn’s glare hardened.

“Well, since you’re all here,” Cassian said, setting his glass aside pointedly, “We intercepted some Imperial communiques demonstrating an interest in Yavin 4.”

“Great,” Han said.

“What?” Kes asked, “Why?”

Jyn stepped back, away from the hololens into fuzzy shadows.

“They seem to think there’s a lost Jedi city here,” Cassian said, just as the door to his office opened again, “And so does Luke.”

Han blew out a breath and muttered something unflattering about the Jedi and “their farking dreams.”

“What did you just say?” Leia demanded, stepping up to Cassian’s side.

He wordlessly took Prestor from her arms.

“Nothing,” Han said belligerently, “Nothing, Your Worshipfulness.”

“Oh hey,” Kes said loudly into the crackling tension, “Is that Prestor? Hey buddy!”

Pres tightened his arms around Cassian’s neck.

“Yeah,” Cassian said, shifting and stepping closer to the hololens. To Pres, he said, “That’s Uncle Kes, Poe’s dad. He’s kind of weird.”

“Hey!” Kes protested, grinning.

Pres giggled, cocking his head. Poe laughed too and waved.

“Hi Papa!” he shouted.

Confronted by such a display of domesticity, Han made a face that could only be characterized as hunted.

“Say hi, Han,” Cassian said.

Han glared at him. Cassian raised an eyebrow. Pres waited.

“Hi, kid,” Han ground out.

“Hi,” Pres said softly, “Are you Han Solo?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Han said roughly.

“Cool,” Pres said, “Is--is Chewbacca with you too?”

Chewie made a sort of moaning growl that Cassian had learned was a fond hello.

Pres smiled brightly, reaching in the direction of the hololens.

“Wow,” he breathed, “Hi.”

Chewie snuffled gently.

“He says he’s very happy to meet you,” Leia translated.

“Chewie!” Poe cried, waving both fists, wriggling in Shara’s arms.

“Great, what is this, a reunion?” Han said grumpily, “If everyone’s done saying hi, we should probably go.”

Cassian tightened his hand on Leia’s shoulder as she tensed, seemingly readily to hurl herself straight at the holo.

“How far are you from Kashyyyk?” he asked instead.

Han eyed him suspiciously, knowing that he already knew the the answer.

“A few hours,” he replied, for everyone else’s benefit, “We’ll be going dark then, obviously.”

“Any word from Imra?” Cassian asked, referencing Han’s old smuggling contact, the source of the tip-off about reduced Imperial presence on Kashyyyk.

Han hesitated, and Chewie shifted restively beside him.

“No,” Han admitted, then added in a rush, “But all I’d asked her to do was round up whoever she could, and she did. We’ve got several light cruisers and half a squadron of fighters, which is more than I’d expected.”

Cassian was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he had a six-year-old boy in his arms. He looked apologetically at Shara and set Pres down.

“Just a few minutes,” he said quietly to the boy, “I’ll be right out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Pres said, biting his lip and following Shara and Poe out.

Cassian forced himself to guiltily meet Jyn’s gaze.

 _I’m sorry_.

She pressed her lips together.

 _I understand_.

“I don’t like it,” he said after Shara had closed the door behind her.

“Yeah,” Luke added, stepping up beside them, hand resting on his lightsaber, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Cassian knew that if anyone else in the galaxy had uttered those words, Han would have laughed and cut the connection right that instant. Four years ago, he probably would have.

Now, though, he hesitated again, hand falling to his blaster.

“A bad feeling?” he asked, “Or a _bad_ feeling?”

Jyn sighed loudly.

Cassian glanced at Luke. He was the only one who knew.

“Bad,” Luke answered for both of them.

“Well, I can deal with bad,” Han said with an easy shrug. Chewie growled in agreement. “I’m very good with bad, actually.”

Leia made a quiet strangled noise. Luke looked at her in oblivious confusion.

“Han--” Leia began.

“--Don’t start, _General_ ,” Han spat, “It’s because of you we’re scrambling to put everything together.”

“You know just as well as I do that the Republic doesn’t have the manpower to spare for any planet not directly under Imperial threat--”

“--Kashyyyk’s been _directly under Imperial threat_ since this farking war started!” Han exploded, “You know, I think we can agree that enslaving an entire planet counts as a little more than a _threat!_ ”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it!” Leia shouted.

Kes sat and thunked his head against the rear wall. Jyn casually studied her fingernails.

“You think I don’t understand what’s happening on Kashyyyk!?” Leia continued, voice steadily rising, “I was there with my father before the wars, before the Empire--”

“--Well, I’m sorry, _Princess_ ,” Han snarled, “We didn’t all grow up with some rich, royal _family_ to take us places and tell us how _wonderful_ \--”

“-- _Han_ \--” Cassian said warningly.

“--everything is,” Han continued right over him, “Chewie’s fought for you all these years because he respects you, and this is how you repay him? He’s lost everything, you know? _Everything_. This is our chance to get it back--”

“-- _You think I don’t know what it’s like!?_ ” Leia hissed, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose everything? That I’m just your _princess?_ ”

“Well, you definitely act like it. I don’t get how you can just sit there and do _nothing_ when there’s a chance to get back at the Empire for--”

“--‘Get back at the Empire’?” Leia said incredulously, “Would you just listen to yourself? This isn’t some--"

“-- _you’re_ the one that--”

“--I think you’re just too afraid to admit that--”

“--Oh, so now I’m _afraid_ \--”

“-- _Enough!_ ” Cassian shouted, pounding a fist on his desk. Silence. All eyes turned to him. “Both of you should know better,” he snapped sharply. “Han, Jyn placed this ’call as a personal courtesy to inform me of her movements, not for me to tell you what to do. Since you resigned your commission, you aren’t under any obligation to inform any of us about your plans, but at the same time, you know,” he emphasized, “You _know_ how thinly we are spread. That’s why you resigned in the first place--we couldn’t afford to have you take your troops with you all the way off to Kashyyyk and get everyone involved in another long siege against the Empire for, in honesty, little real gain. But if you don’t think I really just don’t care, please remember Scarif.” The name fell like a ton of durasteel. “And Fest.” He looked down, briefly, at Leia. “And Alderaan.” He took a deep breath. “Believe me,” he leaned heavily against his desk, back aching, “If we had the men to spare, I wouldn’t give a second thought. As it is,” his lips twisted into a grim smile as he looked over Han’s shoulder, “You’ve taken the best I’ve ever known.”

Kes looked away, studying the floor, brow furrowed. Cassian carefully did not look at Jyn.

“All Luke and I are saying,” he continued, “Is that we don’t think your intelligence is sound. Have I completed assignments on worse? Yes. Are we telling you what to do? No. We all know how much this means to you and Chewie, and we’re speaking to you as _friends_ when we say we think this is a bad idea.”

Han stepped back. Leia looked down. Both wore matching, pained expressions.

Chewie spoke, a series of low, gruff moaning growls.

“No,” Han said, turning to him and shaking his head, “ _No_.”

Chewie insisted, a rough howl.

“Chewie, no,” Han snapped, “That’s your family down there. We’ve come all this way. Even _Erso’s_ here.”

Chewie chuffed softly, tilting his head and jerking it towards the hololens.

“ _No_ ,” Han said forcefully, “You’re important too.”

Leia stepped back, to Cassian’s side.

“You can’t have bad feelings,” Han protested, “You’re not allowed to have bad feelings. We talked about this. When you have bad feelings, I get blown up.”

Chewie nudged him forcefully, fondness evident in his strained voice.

“Chewie…” Han said.

Cassian’s back twinged, and he winced, sitting on the edge of his desk.

Chewie growled.

“Ah,” Luke said, glancing uncertainly at Cassian, _finally_ figuring things out, “I think Cassian and I’ll wait outside?”

“Good idea,” Kes said, pushing Kaytoo out the door on his end, Jyn close behind.

Cassian glanced at Leia, who shot him a look. With a grunt, he hauled himself back to his feet and followed Luke out of his study.

As the door closed behind them, Luke sighed.

“Why do they always have to fight?” he muttered, sounding more resigned than petulant, which Cassian thought was a marked improvement on the boy he’d met four years ago.

Cassian wisely decided not to answer, running a hand through his hair and turning away down the hall.

“Hey, Cassian, wait,” Luke reached out and caught his arm, blue eyes serious, “Are you alright?”

“What?” Cassian snapped, instinctively jerking his arm away and stepping back.

“Sorry,” Luke said quickly, backing off, “It’s just--” he shrugged, “You’ve seemed a little… I don’t know. Off. At least since Fest.”

Cassian narrowly refrained from raising an eyebrow.

“And we’ve seen each other how many times since then?” he said tightly.

“Okay, okay,” Luke held both his hands up in a placating gesture, wincing, “I get it. Sorry.”

Cassian brushed aside a vague sense of guilt and turned away irritably down the hall.

Shara looked up when he entered the family room, and she knew immediately, as she always had, somehow, that he was in a foul mood.

He put on a smile and dropped to the floor next to her, tickling Poe in the stomach.

“Hey Poe,” he said, “You’re getting big here. Soon, your tummy’s going to be bigger than your papa’s beer belly.”

Poe shrieked and squirmed away, laughing.

Cassian’s smile turned fond as Pres approached timidly, leaning against his shoulder.

“Hm?” he hummed, pulling the boy closer, “You tired?”

“No,” Pres said quietly. He hesitated, then said in an even smaller voice, “Are you sad?”

“Sad?” Cassian echoed, drawing back to look at him, “No, why would I be sad?”

Pres buried his face in Cassian’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” he said, voice muffled, “I just--I don’t know.”

Cassian heard Luke enter the room behind them, heard him start a conversation with Shara, hear them laugh, wryly but with an undertone of strain, about Leia and Han.

Something approached suddenly like a stormfront.

He felt Pres’s arms tighten around his neck as if he knew.

But no, it’d been years, years since the destruction of Alderaan, he couldn’t be seeing it again--

Blindly, he pulled Pres away and stood.

Dimly, he sensed Luke turn to him, as if he, somehow, also knew.

“Sorry,” he said, muffled, “I have to--”

“Cassian?” Shara was alarmed, he sensed. He sensed _everything_. “Cassian, what’s wrong?”

“Take the kids,” Luke said sharply, a man and not a boy, “Take them out to the porch.”

“What?” Shara snapped, “What’s happening?”

“Trust me,” Luke said, tense and certain, “They don’t need to see this--”

A deafening explosion of sound--

A cry--

“ _Shara_.”

“--Cassian!”

He felt Luke’s hand on his arm, strong, solid. Familiar and-- _not._

“--down, Cassian,” he was saying, “ _Sit_.”

“ _Jyn,_ ” he gasped--

\--Yavin 4, barricaded by two, three Star Destroyers, half the remainder of the Imperial fleet--

\--a score of battered TIE fighters, hurtling through space, shrieking, burning--

\--The _Falcon_ , crippled, drifting soundlessly--

\--Leia, alone, in a dark room--

\--Shara, alone, in an empty house--

\--Jyn, alone--

\--a desert planet. A lonely child, years into the future past--

“-- _Cassian!_ ”

Darkness.


	9. Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things explode.

Leia staggered suddenly, blinking rapidly, breaking off mid-sentence.

Han watched her carefully, alarmed.

“Leia?” he prompted, voice garbled.

Leia’s mouth opened, closed, soundless.

“Hey, you’re worrying me a little here.”

Han glanced up at Chewie, who snuffled in concern.

“Han--” Leia said, voice strained.

He stepped closer to the hololens, finally recognizing the hand of the farking _Force_.

“Where’s Luke?” he demanded sharply.

As if shattering a spell, he heard Luke’s voice, distantly, sound urgently from the other end of the line.

Leia flinched, blinked.

“Oh fark,” she said, stunned into action, “ _Fark_.”

She sprinted from the room.

“Leia!” he called, but she was already gone.

Han looked up at Chewie.

“You wanna say it or you want me to say it?”

Chewie moaned.

Han sighed.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

* * *

Leia burst into the family room just in time to see Cassian slump into Luke’s arms. Her brother staggered, and she lunged forward, bracing her hands against his back, keeping him upright.

“ _Fark_ ,” she swore as Luke lowered Cassian to the floor, “What the _fark_. I’ll comm the base, have them send a medi-transport--”

“--No, don’t,” Luke said, crouching at Cassian’s side, “He’s fine.”

“He’s _fine?_ ” Leia spluttered, “What--”

“ _\--Leia_ ,” Luke said harshly, sharp and hard.

She sucked in a breath. Gathered her wits. _Thought_.

“What haven’t you told me?” she demanded.

“Many things,” Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, replied, unsmiling.

Leia sat at his side, eyes fixed on the shallow rise and fall of Cassian’s chest. She put a hand on his shoulder, felt hard muscle, brittle bone.

“You felt it too,” Luke said, glancing at her warily, “The disturbance.”

“He’s not… Jedi, is he?” Leia asked.

Luke shook his head.

“No,” he said, “But he’s definitely Force-sensitive, at least that’s what Ben said.”

“His dreams,” Leia said, turning to him, “He’s always had dreams.”

“Yeah,” Luke sighed, and her little brother, familiar and alien all at once, flopped down beside her, “But we don’t really understand it. Ben and me, I mean,” he clarified, “That’s one of the reasons I want to find this Jedi city. It might help me understand a little more of what’s going on. Well,” he added sheepishly, “It’s not like I understand anything anyways.”

“Who else knows?” Leia asked.

“No one,” Luke said, briefly pained.

“Ben knew,” Leia said, “That means my father knew.”

“Yeah,” Luke said.

“Jyn? Shara?”

Luke shook his head.

“No one,” he repeated.

“Why?” Leia demanded.

“I think that’s something you need to ask him,” Luke replied.

Leia pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

“Fark,” she muttered.

“I’ll, uh,” Luke said, standing, “Go check on Shara and the, um, kids.”

“Fark,” Leia repeated, “Han. I left him on the line.”

Luke hesitated.

“You two--”

“--You really don’t want to get involved right now,” Leia said wearily, also rising.

“Sorry,” Luke said genuinely.

“For what?” Leia returned, without heat

Luke shrugged uncomfortably.

“I didn’t know you two were… fighting. Again.”

“Luke,” Leia huffed, “When are we ever not fighting?”

Luke looked away, shifting in that way he did when caught between the two of them, and suddenly, she felt a rush of affection for him, looking miserably between her and Cassian and the door, not like a Jedi at all.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, “It’s just--” she gestured helplessly, “--the way we are.”

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling sheepishly.

Leia smiled back, grateful, so grateful to the Force for this bright young man.

Between them, Cassian twitched awake.

“Don’t--” he said thickly, looking wildly up at them, “ _Don’t go._ ” He sat up, lunging for Leia’s arm, clutching it fiercely. “ _Get out_ ,” he breathed, eyes wide, “ _It’s a trap_.”

“Cassian--” Leia began.

“ _Quiet_ ,” Luke snapped.

It was terrifying.

Cassian lurched to his feet, letting go of her arm and staggering from the room.

“Well, are we just supposed to let him fall on his face?” Leia demanded, when Luke made no move to help, gaze distant. “Oh, _fark_ , why do I even bother?”

Neck hairs prickling, she followed Cassian as he wove his way back down the hall to his study.

He stumbled on the rug just inside the door, and she caught his arm just in time, hauling him back to his feet.

“ _Han_ ,” he gasped to the impatiently-waiting holo, “Han, _you can’t go_.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Han demanded, looking over Cassian’s shoulder at Leia, “Where’s Luke? What happened?”

“ _It’s a trap!_ ” Cassian shouted, staggering closer to the hololens, “ _Get out of there!_ ”

“Leia, what--”

“Do as he says!” Leia snapped, white and tight-lipped, one arm gripping Cassian around the waist, the other bracing their combined weight against his desk.

“Leia--”

“Han, _please!_ ”

Chewie made a rough growling sound and shambled off through the door to the cockpit.

Cassian cried out, hands pressed to his temples as he dropped to his knees, taking her with him.

“Will someone please--”

“-- _Luke!_ ” Leia shouted, hands gripping Cassian’s shoulders as he doubled over on the ground, “Luke, get in here _now!_ ”

The door to the _Falcon’s_ comm center screeched open, and Kes burst in, blaster drawn.

“Han, they found Imra. She’s dead-- _Cass!?_ ”

Han turned sharply back to the hololens, meeting Leia’s eye for one brief moment of resignation.

“Go help Chewie in the cockpit,” he demanded, “Where’s Erso?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Kes shouted, gesturing at the hololens.

“ _I don’t know!_ ” Han roared, turning on him, “But something bad’s going to happen if we don’t get the fark out of here _right now_ , so go help Chewie in the cockpit, or so help me--”

A massive explosion shorted out the audio feed, and Leia jerked to her feet, reaching out instinctively.

Han pushed himself to his knees, turning back to her. In the silence, their eyes met again.

 _I love you_ , he mouthed.

And then the holo fizzled out, and her words died on her lips.


	10. Triad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief respite from the madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References _A Little Bit of Everything_.

Pres was crying silently.

Poe, her sweet, soft-hearted boy, tugged on his sleeve ineffectually.

“Wha’s wrong?” he asked, large, round eyes filling with sympathetic tears, “Why y’cry?”

Shara couldn’t speak, dread pooling in her stomach as she pulled the two boys close in the cool night.

“Mama?” Poe asked, turning to her, “Mama’s ‘ncle Cass ‘kay?”

Pres hiccuped, and Shara smoothed a hand through his hair.

“He’s fine,” she lied tenderly, “Don’t worry.”

Pres bit his lip and pulled away from her.

“Pres,” Shara said, “Pres, come sit. It’ll be just a little and then we can go back in and see Cassian, okay?”

Pres shook his head violently, eyes fixed sightlessly on the ground.

“I know it’s scary,” she said lowly, “But don’t worry. Luke knows what he’s doing.”

She hoped this wasn’t a lie.

“Something--” Pres sobbed, swallowing his tears, “Something’s wrong.”

Poe tottered out of Shara’s arms towards the boy, wrapping his little hands around his waist.

Pres stiffened, crying harder, quietly. Shara reached out to him again, but he shied away, shrugging out of Poe’s grip.

“Pres--”

The back door opened, and Luke stepped outside, a dangerous, crackling air about the vacancy in his eyes.

“Luke?” she said cautiously, “What’s going on?”

Poe gripped her hand tightly, frightened.

“Something--” he said, an eerie echo, “Something’s wrong.”

Shara turned sharply to Pres, who huddled in the corner, trembling.

“ _Luke_ ,” she pressed.

Luke blinked, hard, shaking himself a little.

“I felt--” he said to himself. He shook himself again, breaking off his words.

“Cassian,” Shara prompted.

“He’s fine,” Luke said, “He has a little explaining to do, but he’s--”

“ _Luke!_ ” came Leia’s voice, distantly, “Luke, get in here _now!_ ”

Luke’s eyes snapped to the invisible horizon.

“Get inside,” he said tersely, hand falling to his lightsaber as he turned and sprinted back into the house.

“Luke--” Shara began, but he was gone, and she was left, again, to hold the world together for two small children.

* * *

Cassian swam back to consciousness through a thick fog of confusion.

“Easy,” came a familiar voice.

“Bail,” he whispered.

A hand gripped his.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

“Fark,” he croaked, “What happened?”

“A massive disturbance in the Force,” Leia said, dropping his hand and sitting back, “According to His Royal Grand Jedi Master General Luke Skywalker.”

He blinked owlishly at her.

“What?” he mumbled, pawing at his eyes. He looked around. Somehow, he’d ended up in his bed, on Jyn’s side, Leia perched in an armchair beside him.

“Never mind,” Leia said drily, but her voice bore a definite note of strain.

He pushed himself upright, dipping his head and inhaling sharply through his nose as the world spun.

“That was intelligent,” Leia said.

He snorted weakly, bending forward and putting his aching head in his hands.

“So,” Leia continued, “You’re Force-sensitive, huh?’

He froze, staring at his sheets.

“Yeah,” Leia said, “I know.”

He squinted at her.

“How--”

“--You fell over pretty dramatically in front of all of us, and then you shouted--very impressively--at Han about a trap, and then you fell over very dramatically again just before we lost contact.”

“Lost contact?” he said sharply, haze clearing for just a moment.

“Yeah,” Leia held his gaze with admirable resolve, “There was some sort of explosion, and no, we haven’t heard from them yet. Yes, Luke’s down at the base trying to get back into contact.”

He stared at her.

“How long have I been--”

“--deliriously unconscious?” Leia supplied, answering before he could respond, “Pretty much the entire night and most of the morning. Now,” she continued, steaming on, “Were you ever planning on telling me, or was this always how you'd expected it’d turn out?”

“Leia,” he said wearily, swinging his legs gingerly out of bed. Someone had put him in his pyjamas. He didn’t care to guess who.

“Because Luke knew,” Leia said, “That’s the only reason you’re not pumped full of deps and tied down to a medi-bed right now.”

“Leia--”

“--And Obi-Wan knew,” she paused, then added, significantly, “And so did my father.”

He looked away.

Leia said nothing, but the question did not need a voice to be heard.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

 _That’s not good enough_.

“How did Luke find out?” she asked, “Or has he always known?”

“Fest,” Cassian replied, “He found out when we were on Fest.”

When Leia said nothing, he stood carefully. She watched him steady himself and stretch ever so slightly, hand straying to the four cybernetic vertebrae in his back. She’d seen Luke do the same thing, flesh hand gripping cold metal in search of something lost.

“Pres--” he began reluctantly.

“--He’s with Shara,” Leia replied, “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Yeah,” he said, fumbling for the back of her chair and pulling on his shirt, “I should probably...”

“Yeah,” Leia said, also standing, “You should.”

His eyes darkened, shuttered, but still he hesitated.

“Go,” Leia said, “That’s one thing you can still fix.”

That stung, she saw with a petty sort of satisfaction, and he turned away.

 _Leia_ , her father said, _We don’t keep secrets in this family_. _You know this_.

She watched Cassian leave and, somehow, felt the loss of something more.

* * *

Luke tore across the jungle on his speeder, wind stinging his eyes. Why did Vornez have to be so kriffing far from base? He chewed his lip.

In the distance, he could sense Leia’s gnawing worry, the fledgling bond between the two of them tenuous and fragile. He thought about Ben, about the fact that the old man had known all along. He’d known about Leia. He’d known about Vader. And still--he’d said nothing. Why? Even now, he had no answer, no deep Jedi wisdom to rely on, but he knew that the anger was gone. He wasn’t mad at Ben anymore. Somehow, he understood.

Still, he knew what Leia was thinking about, even without reaching out across their bond. There was sharp, agonizing fear for Han and the others aboard the _Falcon_ , but there was also betrayal. Her own father had kept something else from her, beyond just the truth of her parentage, something inherent to the man she’d come to love and respect as a brother.

Luke shook his head violently.

 _Force_ , he was beginning to sound like Ben.

His thoughts strayed to the distressing news he had heard from Kashyyyk, then on to the ominous lack of communication with the _Falcon_ , then back to the news of the leaked Imperial communique about Ben’s underground Jedi city. Something was coming. Something big.

He wheeled the speeder to a stop just beside the Dameron house, hopping from the seat almost before the engine had died.

“What’s going on?” Leia demanded, bursting onto the back porch, “Have you heard anything?”

“We need to send ’ships to Kashyyyk,” he said without preamble, striding up the steps, “We’ve waited too long.”

“What’s changed?” Leia didn’t budge, standing her ground, looking him levelly in the eye.

“There’s no more Death Star,” Luke said, brushing past her, “So they’re doing the next best thing. They’re bombarding the whole planet. Where’s Cassian?”

“Here,” Cassian said, shutting the door firmly behind him, dish towel in hand. He looked exhausted, pale and finely drawn.

Leia stiffened.

“I need you to scramble your fighters and have them rendezvous with our fleet at Contruum,” Luke said, “The Imperials have started an orbital bombardment of Kashyyyk.”

“How do you know this?” Cassian asked.

“Contruum scouts have confirmed that the Imperial fleet is converging on Kashyyyk,”Luke replied impatiently, “Two, three Star Destroyers, a dozen light cruisers.”

“You’re sure?” Cassian demanded tightly, “You know that will leave us running on reserve defenses.”

“We’re the closest base to Kashyyyk after Contruum,” Luke replied, as if Cassian didn’t already know.

“Why now?” Cassian shook his head, “Why Kashyyyk? This makes no sense. It feels like a trap.”

“This is our _chance_ ,” Luke pressed, “Half the entire Imperial fleet’s in one place!”

“Yeah?” Cassian returned, “And where’s the other half? Even a _quarter_ of the Imperial fleet is too much for us to handle right now.”

“ _Cassian_ ,” Luke snapped hotly, stepping forward so they were chest-to-chest, eye-to-eye, “This is _Kashyyyk_ we’re talking about here, not some backwater Outer Rim world.”

“Not like Fest, you mean,” Cassian snarled, leaning forward, “I’ve already admitted it was my mistake, sending troops to Fest. That’s why--”

“--You’re just afraid. Or don’t you want this war to end?”

Cassian clenched his jaw shut.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he ground out, strained.

Luke drew back.

“What I’m saying is I know that if Han and Chewie were here, they wouldn’t think twice about doing everything they could to help,” he said, blue eyes burning, “Han came back for _me_ ,” he continued, “He came back to the Death Star for _me_. He stayed for _her_ \--” he pointed at Leia, who had remained uncharacteristically silent.

“I understand--” Cassian began.

“--Oh, I don’t think you do,” Luke snapped, crackling with terrible energy.

Cassian looked at him levelly, smoldering.

“It seems, _General_ ,” he said, “That you’ve already made up your mind.”

Luke exhaled heavily.

“Don’t act like I’m forcing you into this,” he said, “It’s the right thing to do.”

“I know what I saw,” Cassian said lowly, “And I won’t make the same mistake twice. No good can come from sending troops to Kashyyyk.”

Leia looked sharply at him.

“No good?” Luke replied, voice rising again, “No _good?_ You’re just going to let a whole planet burn because--”

“-- _because your farking Force said it would!_ ” Cassian shouted, “And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that I’m supposed to do what your Force farking tells me to do, or more people will end up dead.”

“That’s not how the Force works,” Luke retorted, strangled.

Cassian stepped forward again.

“Because you know the Force so well,” he rasped, “Don’t you.”

Luke flushed.

“You don’t have to be Jedi to understand the Force,” Cassian continued in the same tone, “In fact, the only man who I can say truly understood the Force wasn’t Jedi at all. Don’t--” he bit the word out, “ _Don’t_ pretend like you understand.”

Luke drew back again, hurt and embarrassed. He swallowed, and after a long pause, he spoke again.

“I’ll send word to Chandrila,” he said stiffly, expression shuttered, “They’ll be able to redirect troops.”

That said, he turned sharply and strode across the grass to his speeder, leaping in and pulling away in one smooth motion.

Cassian, pale and wan, slumped against the rail, dish towel still clutched in nerveless fingers.

Into the stilted silence, Leia spoke, and the fragile peace shattered.

“What did you mean,” the Princess of Alderaan said slowly, “When you said you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My self-respect has given up the ghost, and I’ve made a [tumblr](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/). There will be quite a bit of writing (original fiction and autobio nonfic) up there, along with extended notes for stuff I’m working on here, if tremendously angsty angst laced with poorly-placed humour is your cup of tea.
> 
> Here's this chapter's [post](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158048889621/alternatively-together-chapter-10-triad).


	11. Ostinato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up with our friends aboard the _Falcon_ , but not before Shara has her say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References Chapters 1 and 2 of [_A Little Bit of Everything_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9274838/chapters/21018893).

Shara heard them shouting from the kitchen.

She shoved the last cabinet door shut, stacked the dried dishes neatly away, and prayed their voices wouldn’t reach the playroom. Peering out the window, she watched Luke storm off, watched Leia turn to Cassian, watched them speak, terribly quietly.

When _Leia_ stormed off, she made up her mind and pushed open the back door.

“Sit,” she demanded, pressing Cassian into the long, low bench.

He fell more than sat, with a weary resignation that spoke volumes.

“So,” she said, sitting next to him, “You told her.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“No, I wasn’t _spying_ on you two,” Shara said tartly, “But it doesn’t take a lot to figure out what’ll get Leia mad at you.”

Gripping the edge of the bench with white-knuckled fingers, he stared intently down at the ground.

“Are _you_?” he said roughly.

“Why would I be?” Shara snorted, “Irritated, maybe.” She shrugged. “But it’s not as personal for me.”

Cassian winced.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Shara asked, staring him down until he reluctantly turned to look at her. “After all these years.”

Cassian looked away again, out across the clearing to the dense forest beyond.

“What was I supposed to say?” he said, “‘I think I dream about the future sometimes’?” He barked out a bitter laugh. “You all thought I was out of my mind as it was, and after Alderaan--” he bit off his words, brow furrowed, looking away, “After Alderaan, _how_ \--” his voice broke, and he stood suddenly, pacing to the rail again, bracing himself against the smooth, warm wood.

Shara watched him silently.

“That’s why I accepted the transfer to Alderaan,” he said quietly, with hollow finality, “I worked with Bail and Bel Iblis to figure out what was happening, what this _planet killer_ was. But too late.” His voice tightened. “It was too little, too late.”

“It’s not your fault,” Shara said, “You brought the plans back. You had no control over what the High Council chose to do with them.”

“Yes, but I _knew_ ,” Cassian said, turning to face her, “I _knew_ , even before I left for Scarif, that the Death Star was real. That it _was_ possible for the Empire to destroy entire planets. And I did nothing.” His face twisted, and he turned away again. “ _Nothing._ ”

Shara approached him cautiously, leaning back against the rail, facing the wide, sprawling house her husband had built with his own two hands.

“You know,” she said, “Kes was a carpenter before he left Naboo.”

Cassian looked at her sharply.

She ignored him, continuing, “He hasn’t spoken to his family in almost ten years. He doesn’t know if any of them are even still alive.” She glanced at Cassian. “That’s the one thing he never talks about. You know Kes,” she smiled crookedly, “He’ll talk about anything, really.” Here, she paused. “Anything except the family he left behind on Naboo.”

“When he told me he wanted to build this house, our house, I thought he was joking. I mean, half the stuff that comes out of that man’s mouth is total bantha poodoo.” Cassian turned away, but she caught the crinkling at the corner of his eye. “But by the time I brought Poe back, we had a house, and I’d learned something new about the man I thought I’d known for years and years. You had your secret life on Alderaan. He had his on Naboo. Granted," she shrugged casually, "one involved blasters and the other rafters, but Cassian,” she said, reaching out and touching his arm, “I like to think that all that’s happened--Alderaan, Naboo, Scarif--are things we can put in the past. Yes, they happened. Yes, they shaped our circumstances, which shaped who we are now, but they’re done with. Over.”

Cassian shifted stiffly.

“What I’m saying, Cassian,” Shara said, “Is that you don’t need to explain yourself. All of us--me, Kes, Jyn, Leia--we’ve all done things that drive us crazy if we try too hard to understand them. That’s what happens when you fight in a war, especially one that’s gone on this long.”

Cassian stubbornly refused to face her.

“Jer,” Shara said softly, pulling him gently around, “We get it.”

It was with rigid control that he allowed her to wrap her arms around him, to pull him close.

To justify.

* * *

They were in farking deep shavit, Kes thought.

Drifting through Imperial space on half a sublight engine, he half-expected an Imperial cruiser to wink into existence out the viewport at any second.

A muffled curse sounded from behind him.

“Would you farking lie still?” he snapped, turning, “I swear, you and Cassian are the two most farking irritating patients in the galaxy.”

“I,” Jyn Erso ground out, “Am not your _patient_. That would imply that you’ve had some form of medical training, which I can say is obviously not the case.”

“Either way,” Kes replied, shoving her back down on the hard durasteel floor, “Lie down or Cass’ll kill both of us when he hears that you ruptured something and gave me an aneurysm.”

Jyn lay back down with a glare.

Kes peeked delicately under the bandage pressed to her thigh.

“All good,” he said.

“What a relief,” Jyn said acidly.

“She still alive?” Han hollered over his shoulder from the engine well.

Jyn glared at the ceiling.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Kes shouted back, “And very irritated. You making any progress?”

Chewie moaned.

“ _You_ wanna help out?” Han yelled.

“You remember the last time I tried to fix the hyperdrive?”

Han didn’t reply, which meant he did, in fact, remember the first and last time he’d let Kes into the _Falcon_ ’s engine well.

Crawling under the smoking mess of the comsat panel to the exposed wiring, Kes yanked out a tangled bunch and glared, muttering, “I was a carpenter, not a farking starship engineer!”

“Try the yellow one,” Jyn said.

“Was just about to,” Kes replied snippily, taking one of the many yellow cables and sticking it into the jack that someone--likely Han--had labeled “FARK-LEVEL EMGCY ONLY.”

“Nope,” Jyn said, propped up on her elbows, “Nothing.”

“You disappoint me again, Jyn,” Kes said in mock disappointment, “Which one next? The other yellow one? Or the other other yellow one? Oh look, here’s a blue one. Let’s try that.”

“No,” Jyn said again as he toggled the manual power lever.

A loud thunk from the engine well.

“Hey, _watch it_ , Spiderlegs!” Han yelped.

“I’m sorry,” Kaytoo replied, muffled and entirely unapologetic.

Kes sighed.

“Be nice, Kay,” he shouted, “He doesn’t have enough brain cells to lose!”

“Hey!” Han shouted, “ _You_ wanna try this?”

Kes saw Jyn smother a grin and smiled to himself.

He picked another yellow cable--knowing his luck, it probably was the same one--and jammed it into the socket.

“Still nothing,” Jyn supplied.

“Ah, fark,” Kes sighed, sprawled dramatically on his back, scowling, “I guess we’re just doomed to drift through space until the next Imperial patrol happens by.”

Chewie moaned.

Jyn bit her lip. Kes looked up at her and saw she was staring out the viewport.

“D’you think anyone else made it out back there?” he asked her quietly.

“Out of _that?_ ” Jyn said, shaking her head, “Look at us. _We_ can’t even be considered ‘out’ yet.”

Another sharp thud from the engine well.

“Ah, _fark!_ ” Han shouted, “That’s it. Put me the fark down, farking Spiderlegs!”

Chewie growled.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Han grumbled, “Should’ve let you do it. Okay--” another growl, “-- _okay_. Just don’t catch your hair on fire again.”

Jyn and Kes exchanged a look.

“Hey, we could use your help up here,” Kes shouted.

“Yeah, coming,” Han replied, and down the narrow corridor, Kes saw the harried figure of the _Falcon_ ’s captain haul itself out of the the ’ship’s underbelly and slouch in their direction.

“What the hell’ve you done?” Han snapped, staring at the guts of the comsat panel strewn across Kes’s stomach.

“I really appreciate your system of organization,” Kes said, throwing the bunch of yellow cables up at Han, who snatched them out of the air with a look of horror, “I can’t even get it back up on aux power.”

“Well, the power core’s mostly dead--move over--” Han muttered, toeing Kes aside and dropping down beside him, “--so that’s no surprise. Honestly, I just want to get us out of here. If it comes down to the comms or the hyperdrive, I’m picking the hyperdrive.”

“Agreed,” Kes said, after only a moment’s hesitation.

Han plucked a yellow cable seemingly at random and jammed it into the “FARK-LEVEL EMGCY ONLY” jack.

The comsat panel lit up with a shower of sparks.

Han raised an eyebrow and grinned slyly.

“She likes me better,” he said.

Kes grimaced and pulled himself to his feet. Brushing off a thick layer of soot from the surface, he brought up the command line display.

“Uh,” he said dumbly, stopping short. He looked back over his shoulder at them, “I’m retired. I don’t have the clearance codes anymore.”

“’Call Shara, then,” Jyn said drily, “I’m sure she’ll be able to get word out.”

“Oh. Right,” Kes said, punching in his home holoreceiver by memory.

They waited.

And waited.

“Anyone know what time it is on Yavin 4?” Han asked impatiently.

“It is three o’clock in the morning on Yavin 4,” Kaytoo said loudly from the engine well.

Han made a face.

“They’re probably all asleep,” he said, “Or down at the base.”

“Cassian’ll be there,” Jyn said firmly.

Kes and Han shared a look.

“ _What?_ ” she demanded.

The holo fizzled to life.

“Han?” Cassian said, garbled but intelligible.

Jyn smirked triumphantly.

“Yeah,” Han replied, “We’re all here and in one piece.” He glanced at Jyn and shrugged. “Kind of.”

“Why can’t I see you?” Cassian frowned, peering down at his holoreceiver.

“Oh,” Han said, scrambling forward, “Forgot to uplink the hololens. Give me a sec.”

He smashed some more cables together, and holo-Cassian stepped back, satisfied, then stiffened.

“ _Jyn_ ,” he said tightly, “What happened?”

“Just some shrapnel,” she replied lightly, sitting up all the way, “Got caught in the explosion.”

Cassian looked tremendously unsatisfied, arms crossed tightly over his chest, brow furrowed.

“Are you in _uniform?_ ” Han said, disbelieving, “Fark.”

“I reconfigured our holoreceivers to forward to my office down at the base,” Cassian replied, “We’re all here--Shara and the kids too,” he added, at Kes’s look of confusion, “But they’re all asleep.”

“Wait, why are you all down there?” Kes asked, alarmed, “What’s happening?”

Cassian drew a slight breath and stood a little straighter.

Jyn recognized the look on his face, could read him like a holo-newsreel. He was tired. And worried. And--hurting?

“It’s just a precaution,” he said carefully, “We’ve had word of Imperial movement.”

“How much movement?” Han demanded.

Cassian didn’t even hesitate.

“Half the fleet is headed to Kashyyyk,” he said flatly, “This was confirmed by Contruum scouts this--yesterday morning.”

“ _What!?_ ” Han roared.

“But what does that have to do with Yavin 4?” Kes asked.

Cassian took a breath.

“I sent half our fighters to Contruum this afternoon,” he said tersely, “I had Shara join me just as a precaution.”

“Doesn’t this mean you’re relying on reserves?” Kes demanded, “Where’s the other half of the Imperial fleet?”

“Yes, and we don’t know.”

“Ah, _fark_ ,” Han spat, storming back down the corridor, “How’s it looking, Chewie?”

“Our hyperdrive’s shot,” Jyn explained to Cassian, “We have half a working sublight engine. Kaytoo only just got the power core--what's left of it, anyways--back online, which is why we've been having trouble contacting you.”

“What happened?” Cassian asked.

“Warrin Station’s gone, is what happened,” Kes said shortly, “Someone rigged charges in the power core. We might have been the only ones to get out, thanks to you.” He looked sharply up at Cassian, waiting for an explanation.

Cassian said nothing, bringing a hand up to the bridge of his nose.

 _Cass,_ Kes thought _, what deep shavit have you gotten into now?_

“You look better,” he said carefully, probing. Jyn looked at him, perplexed.

“Thanks,” Cassian snorted.

They regarded each other silently.

“What about that Jedi city?” Jyn asked, redirecting the conversation, “Are you still helping Luke with that?”

“I think--” Cassian shrugged uncomfortably, “--that’s on hold right now. With everything that’s going on.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Jyn said sharply.

Cassian raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the one that got blown up,” he said blandly, “So I don’t think you’re really qualified to be saying that.”

Kes groaned.

“I _swear_ , you two--”

Han stormed back into the room.

“We have to test out the hyperdrive,” he said shortly to Cassian, “I’m going to need to pull all the power I can get.”

Cassian nodded tersely.

“Understood,” he said, clipped, detached, “I’ll relay your news to the others.”

His eyes lingered on Jyn for just a moment before he reached forward and severed the connection.

“Charming guy,” Han muttered, yanking out the yellow cables and sending the comsat panel sputtering into darkness again.

He turned back down the corridor. “Okay, Chewie!” he shouted, “Hit it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's [notes](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158089976661/alternatively-together-chapter-11-ostinato).


	12. Interlude III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are ghosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To compensate for the sheer lack of Jyn-Cassian interaction in recent chapters.

He still dreamed about Scarif, she knew.

Not Scarif, that last time, but Scarif, before the wars.

Curled up beside him, she felt the way he shattered when he woke, sometimes with a breathless word of longing, sometimes with nothing but silence, a jarring _there_ then _here_.

They never spoke, though each knew the other was awake.

Those were the mornings she knew not to be hurt when he turned away from her, silently, closing himself off. Those were the mornings she knew to let him grieve.

“Has he ever talked about it with you?” she asked Shara one of those early mornings, sitting out on the Damerons’ back porch towards the end of her extended leave, watching the sun rise.

Shara took a long sip of caf, face shadowed.

“No,” she said, “He hasn’t.”

Jyn stared down at the mug in her hands.

“Did you know him--” she hesitated, “--before?”

Shara shifted back against her chair, sweeping aside unbound hair.

“In a way,” she replied. “Not as children. He’s always been… older, in that sense, if not in reality. I knew him on Fest.” Jyn felt her eyes settle on the back of her neck. “But you already know that.”

Jyn, stretched out casually across the top step of the stairs, did not reply.

Shara sighed, a heavy, fluttering thing.

“Jyn,” she said gently, and despite herself, Jyn felt her hackles rise, “I can’t tell you how to talk to him.”

 _The only person he’d ever have listened to is dead_.

“I know,” Jyn replied, a little sharply.

She felt Shara’s eyes on her again.

“He trusts you,” Shara said quietly, “That’s all you need.”

* * *

She found him later that morning sprawled across the overstuffed futon in the den, a massive fire roaring away in the grate, an empty bottle of Corellian whisky on the table beside him.

“Come on,” she said loudly, kicking at a booted foot, “Leave’s over. You’re coming back with me.”

He blinked blearily and sat up automatically at the command in her voice before remembering where he was.

“I outrank you,” he said, slumping back, “By a lot. And I have two more weeks.”

“Do you really think _this--_ ” she gestured at the whisky, at the roaring fire, at _him_ , “--is doing you any good?”

He reached for the bottle and found it empty. Leaning forward, he pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced.

“I just need some time,” he said, which should not have been as alarming as it was, coming from his mouth.

“No,” she said flatly, tamping down her dismay, “You’ve had too much of it. I’m leaving tonight. You can come or you can stay.”

He stared at her transparently, hurt and surprised, and stood unsteadily.

“I’m not forcing you to stay,” he said to some point over her shoulder.

“You’re not,” she agreed, “I want to. But not like this.”

She wanted him to get angry. She wanted him to shout at her. But he just stood there, a ghost watching ghosts, until she stepped forward and took his hand.

“Cassian,” she said, and he shivered, leaning into her touch.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she realized he was trembling.

“I understand,” she said.

He looked away, jaw clenched, and even now, refused to break.

 _The only person he’d ever have listened to is dead_.

Jyn swallowed.

“Come on,” she said again, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is enough of a respite, right?
> 
> Not-so-extended chapter notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158131813276/alternatively-together-chapter-12-interlude-iii).


	13. Minuet in F

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke walks around in a jungle. Cassian spends some time with family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out to be a little bit of an interlude as well.

Luke brushed a delicate climbing fern frond aside and carefully made his way through the thick undergrowth, reaching out with his senses, straining to hear, to see. Unconsciously, he flexed the mechanical fingers of his right hand. The medical droids on Yavin 4 had done an excellent job of piecing the control unit back together and repairing other damage done in the blast. Most of the damage, at least.

He hadn’t told anyone yet, but he hadn’t stepped foot in an X-wing since.

He had no real desire to do so.

 _Peace_ , Ben whispered in his mind, _Trust the Force_.

Luke let out a breath, centering himself again in nebulous calm.

“Luke,” came a voice from his commlink, “Check in.”

He sighed, coming to a halt and smacking the transmission control.

“Still here,” he said wearily, “Still alive. Still nothing.”

“You’re less than five klicks from Falcon base,” Cassian said, “There probably isn’t anything else in your radius.”

Luke pulled up a mini holo-map of the planet on the compact holoprojector wrapped around his wrist, squinting at the dimly pulsing point that indicated his location.

“Yeah,” he said with forced casualness, “You’re right.” He snapped off the map and took a moment to consider his next course of action.

It was only two days into the search, and he was already beginning to feel the futility of the task sink into his stomach. This entrance could be anywhere. Literally anywhere.

Or nowhere, if Cassian was to be believed. He bit back another frustrated sigh.

“Luke?” Cassian prompted.

“I’m going to head east,” Luke decided firmly, backtracking to his speeder, “‘The Wayward Jungle’ or something?”

“That sounds promising,” Cassian said drily.

Luke didn’t reply, hopping nimbly back up into his modified speeder and firing up the engines.

“Any news?” he asked, pulling off into the late-afternoon sky.

A brief pause. Luke could just picture the look on Cassian’s face--stiff, completely neutral. He knew he wasn’t the only one who hated that expression.

“They left for Kashyyyk an hour ago,” Cassian replied without inflection, “With the ground troops.”

There would be no _Millennium Falcon_ swooping in to make a last-minute rescue this time. After carrying out emergency repairs, Han and the others had only just managed to limp back to Contruum. From what Luke had heard, it was amazing the old junkheap was still in one piece.

And there was the small issue of Kashyyyk. Namely, that Han (most likely with some assistance from Jyn) had bullied their way onto the evacuation escort, despite no longer holding official rank within the New Republic. The name Solo carried with it tremendous weight these days.

But not as much as Skywalker.

 _I should be there with them_ , Luke thought.

And then he thought about strapping himself into his X-wing, the reinforced transparisteel canopy snapping shut over his head, the accelerating beeps and clicks, the dawning horror of realizing that--

“Luke?” Cassian asked, a little impatiently.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, “Sorry. What? I was just thinking.”

“I said it’ll be sundown in an hour,” Cassian repeated, “Why don’t you call it a day?”

“Shouldn’t be out after dark, should I?” Luke replied with just the hint of an edge.

“No,” Cassian said mildly, “I thought you’d want to monitor the comms from here, instead of have me relay every bit of information to you second-hand.”

In other words, Cassian knew he felt guilty and was giving him a way out.

He took it.

“Fine,” he said, wheeling in the air, relishing the cool wind in his face, “I’m heading back.”

Cassian said nothing, but the line remained open.

“Hey,” Luke said, deciding to take his chances while they were still separated by several hundred kilometers, “Have you heard from Leia?”

His sister had abruptly left Yavin 4 with the pilot detachment, a common transport stopping briefly off at Chandrila to deposit her once again into the snarled, snarling mess of the New Republic Senate. She’d offered no explanation and returned no ’calls.

Luke thought he had a pretty good idea what had happened.

There was a slight crackling in his ear, as if Cassian had sighed.

“No,” he said evenly, “I haven’t.”

Luke left it at that.

* * *

Contrary to popular misconception, there were other children on Yavin 4. This _was_ \--or had been--the Rebellion, not the Empire.

Nevertheless, Cassian found himself vaguely surprised to find Poe in animated conversation with several older boys, flapping his arms like a small, brown cairoka bird. He raked his eyes around the rest of the room--formerly a supply closet, now a casually-overlooked multipurpose room functioning as a recreation area of sorts--for Pres and found him sitting with Shara in the far corner.

He let the guilt fill him as he crossed the room.

“--and so brought to a peaceful conclusion the events on Naboo,” Shara said, reading out loud from her datapad.

They both glanced up as he approached, and Pres slid off his chair, making as if to hurry over to him but paused shyly, settling for fiddling with his fingers instead.

“Hey,” Cassian said gently, scooping him up with a grunt, “How’re you doing, hm? Being good to Auntie Shara?”

Shara smiled behind his back, wearily setting her datapad down beside her.

“I’ve been reading him old mission reports,” she said wryly, “Not yours, don’t worry,” she added quickly, at the look on his face, “Really old ones.” Meaning the declassified ones.

“That doesn’t sound very interesting,” Cassian said, drawing back to look Pres in the face.

Pres shook his head, smiling.

“I like stories,” he said.

“Stories, huh?” Cassian raised an eyebrow at Shara, “Those must be some interesting mission reports.”

“I try,” Shara said, very dry.

Cassian shifted back and forth, bobbing Pres up and down and smoothing the boy’s hair back.

“How’re things going?” Shara asked casually.

And the guilt grew.

“They’ll be out of hyperspace in half an hour,” Cassian said quietly, avoiding her eye, “Did you want to--”

“--no,” Shara said evenly, “Thanks.” At his naked look of guilt, she added, “It’s habit.”

Cassian nodded sharply. Pres leaned against his chest, warm and comforting.

“Why don’t we go find something a little more fun for Auntie Shara to read to you?” Cassian asked.

“I like mission reports,” Pres replied staunchly.

“You’re a strange child,” Cassian said fondly, and Pres giggled into his shoulder, pulling a smile onto Cassian’s face. He turned to Shara and said, “I might have something in my quarters here. I’ll take him there and pick something out, then we’ll be back.”

In other words, _Take a break, Shara_.

“Sure,” she said, standing and stretching.

“Thanks,” Cassian said quietly.

She pressed a cool hand to his shoulder and stepped past him with a small smile, saying, “Hey, Poe! Want to go outside for a bit?”

Gratitude matched guilt for a bit.

“Up or down?” Cassian murmured to Pres.

Pres answered by wrapping his arms around Cassian’s neck.

“Okay,” Cassian grunted, shifting him higher, “Let’s go find something fun.”

They marched down the corridor to Cassian’s quarters, which were, thankfully, no great distance away. Quickly, he keyed in access and waited for the door to shut behind him before carefully setting Pres down.

“Bunk on the right, desk on the left, bookshelf straight ahead,” he said, waiting patiently for Pres to get his bearings.

“You share this room?” Pres asked, carefully making his way to the bunk, feeling its cold, hard plastisteel frame.

“Yeah,” Cassian replied, “With Jyn.”

He crossed the room to the bookshelf, which held what, to the common military man, might have been a surprisingly large collection of leather-bound paper books. Running a finger across the spines, he glanced back over his shoulder at Pres, who was busy feeling around under the bunk with simple curiosity.

“What kind of stories do you like?” he asked loudly.

Pres turned back towards him.

“Anything, I think,” he said, approaching carefully.

Cassian turned back to the shelf, skimming the titles he had and absently placing a hand on Pres’s shoulder when he leaned against his legs.

“You have actual books?” Pres said, coming around his other side and wedging himself between Cassian and the shelf.

“Yeah,” Cassian replied, still searching for something that would be… age-appropriate.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you have actual books? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have everything on a datapad? You could have a lot of books that way and not have to carry everything around.”

“Yeah,” Cassian admitted, “But a book is--” he paused, struggling to find words. “It’s like the difference between hearing about a story and actually being there when it happens.”

A thought struck him, followed by a sudden sinking feeling of failure.

“Pres,” he said, “Did you--did you ever learn how to read? We have special datapads here that can help you.”

Pres turned to look up at him.

“You mean the ones with little bumps on them?” he asked, nose wrinkled.

“Yeah,” Cassian replied.

“Sort of,” Pres said, “But I’m not very good at it.”

“I’ll teach you,” Cassian said firmly.

Pres smiled shyly, gripping the shelf.

“Really?” he asked.

“Of course,” Cassian replied, shaking himself, “When I’m done with work today, I’ll find two of those datapads, and we can read together. Is that okay?”

“Yeah!” Pres breathed, eyes wide.

Cassian pressed a hand briefly to his hair, then turned back to his bookshelf.

“Now,” he said, “We still need to find a book for Auntie Shara to read to you. What kind of stories do you think both of you will like?”

Pres frowned in serious consideration.

“History,” he said, then added quickly, “I don’t think she was really reading me mission reports... I think she might have been making them up.”

Cassian snorted.

“Sounds just like her,” he said, craning his neck to look up at the top shelf.

His eyes fell on a thin volume wedged between two thick tomes, and he laughed to himself, reaching up and plucking it down.

“Here,” he said, handing it to Pres, “Careful.”

Pres clutched the book with both hands.

“What’s it about?” he asked curiously, running his hands over the cover.

Cassian grinned.

“You’ll have to ask Auntie Shara about that,” he said, “But it’s the greatest book in the galaxy.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. Make sure you tell her that.”

Pres peeled back the cover longingly.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed softly, “It smells--”

He breathed deeply, and again, burying his nose in the pages.

“It smells--” Pres repeated. Cassian waited patiently. Pres frowned in concentration, then he paused, looking back up at Cassian. “It smells like Alderaan,” he murmured.

Cassian stiffened, hand tightening unconsciously on the shelf above him.

Pres shrank back.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t mean--”

“--No, don’t say sorry,” Cassian said quickly, forcing himself to relax, forcing a smile into his voice, “You’re right. That book is--was--from Alderaan.” He looked back up at the shelves. “All of them are.”

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Pres whispered, clutching the book.

Cassian smiled crookedly, reaching down and heaving Pres into his arms again.

“Stop it,” he said, resting his head briefly against Pres’s cheek, “You don’t make me sad. You make me very happy.”

Pres looked down.

“It’s just--” he said tremulously, and Cassian held him tighter. “I don’t remember a lot about Alderaan. And sometimes I wish--” he stopped, biting his lip.

“You wish you knew more,” Cassian said gently.

Pres nodded.

“Pres,” Cassian sighed, “Everyone feels sad sometimes. It would be bad if no one ever felt sad at all.” He thought hard over his next words, wondering if he was about to make a mistake. “Especially now,” he said finally, “People feel sad a lot more, and it’s okay. There are a lot of sad things in the galaxy right now.” He paused. “But there are also a lot of happy ones. You just have to--” he shrugged, smiling a little, “--look a little harder for them, and hold on to them a little tighter.”

Pres curled up against him, so small, so quiet, clutching the book to his chest.

“Did you find any?” Pres whispered.

Cassian closed his eyes, and he saw again the gleaming expanse of Lake Aldera, the sweeping expanse of Scarif’s pale beaches. Baze and Chirrut, side-by-side, bickering with Bodhi over a game of sabacc. Jyn, standing defiantly before the High Council. Kay, flickering to life. Kes and Shara together, laughing as Poe stares in confusion at the glowing tree between their homes. Leia, tugging his cap from his head and hurling it into a sky split by stars. Bail, roaring in delight at the Founding Day celebrations. His mother, tugging him down after her into clear, still waters.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely, after a moment, “I did. I found a lot of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158172837111/alternatively-together-chapter-13-minuet-in-f).
> 
> Small Announcement  
> I'm planning another project because I live in constant denial and kind of like this Interlude miniseries. This one will be a series of about 10 (probably) unrelated Jyn/Cassian oneshots.
> 
> I need:  
> 1\. Setting. Time and place. Obviously, this is going to be AU, so almost anything goes. You can try your luck with crossovers, but I'm a hermit and I live under a rock, so I might not know what the fark you're talking about.  
> 2\. One plot point: Anything I can cover in under 2,000 words--except explicit stuff.
> 
> Bonus: I'll be writing this to [The Airborne Toxic Event's eponymous album](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1U8lGHd4MpI) because I'm realising a childhood dream and finally going to see them live at the end of the month. If you're familiar with their work, well, you'll see why I think they'd fit with Jyn/Cassian.
> 
> Pop them in the comments or shoot me an ask--cheers!


	14. Rondo (Alla Kashyyyk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kashyyyk looms on the horizon.

“Rogue Leader, come in.”

A sharp burst of static. Then, distantly--

“This is Rogue Leader.”

Luke compulsively clutched his cybernetic hand around his arm, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Report,” Admiral Ackbar said from _Home One_ , gravelly voice distorted.

“Rogue Squadron, standing by,” Wedge Antilles replied evenly, over another burst of static.

Luke fiddled with his earpiece, vowing to check Yavin 4’s comsat array the first chance he got. Cassian glanced at him, poised beside a massive holo of Kashyyyk peppered with flashing points indicating squadron positions, recently helpfully configured by Kaytoo in an abnormally generous fit of ennui. He looked away. Despite Yavin, despite Hoth, despite Endor, despite _Fest_ , he still felt like a simple farm boy in Cassian’s presence, so he kept his face straight and his mouth shut.

Tonight, the control center was full, all resources called to hand to lend whatever strategic assistance could be offered. He’d spotted a few familiar faces upon hurrying in straight from his speeder, wind-tousled and sweaty, but nerves and the overwhelming desire to _inspire confidence_ had led him only to accept the earpiece Cassian had tossed in his direction and say nothing.

Technically, he outranked Cassian. Jedi, as Leia had whispered to him somewhere between Yavin and Hoth, apparently outranked everyone, even if they were as new to the business as he was.

But it wasn’t like he was going to take advantage of that.

Give him a busted moisture vaporator, and he’d be your man, but directing whole fleets and armies? He didn’t know if he trusted himself--or the Force--to do that right now.

“Hey,” drawled a familiar voice over the comms, “Could we hurry it up? It’s getting kind of hot in here.”

Admiral Ackbar might have laughed. Or grunted.

Cassian pressed his lips together.

Possibly what was most disturbing about Cassian, Luke thought, was that he was completely unreadable in the Force. With everyone else he had ever met, even Ben, there had always been something, some slip of _sense_ at odd moments.

With Cassian--nothing.

But Luke knew that Jyn could read him as easily as one of the many treasured books stored away in their shared quarters. Leia too, sometimes. Some part of him was jealous of this fact. Most of him, however, just felt inadequate.

“Lock S-foils in attack position,” Wedge said, yanking him back to the present.

“Great,” Han said, amidst the unmistakable sound of a blaster magazine slotting home, “It’s about time.”

* * *

Jyn had had time to send one message out before they’d left Contruum.

She hadn’t.

She’d never seen the need for long, drawn-out goodbyes. Then again, she’d never had one before, so maybe she was missing out on something.

Still, as she climbed aboard the transport, limping only slightly as she firmly ignored Han’s grumbling about its inferiority to the _Falcon_ , she thought about the age she’d seen in Cassian’s eyes, the tilt of his shoulders that hinted at exhaustion. She thought about Pres, with whom she’d spoken for a few very short minutes of his few, very short years.

Kes eyed her warily and sat beside her as the ramp closed, saying nothing but knowing all the same.

Han, for his part, drove everyone insane, including Chewie, who, in the end, resorted to the time-honored method of shutting Han up by way of sitting on his stomach.

They all tolerated this, from the rookie pilot who, for a moment, reminded her painfully of a different Imperial defector, to the rest of the Pathfinders that had been hastily scrounged together, because he was Han Solo. And they all more or less knew Han well enough to know that he showed he cared by being a farking pain in the arse.

And they all knew he cared about Chewie a lot.

Kes stared out the viewport once they entered hyperspace, and Jyn found herself studying him surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye as the parsecs bled past. He’d retired, officially handed in his paperwork the month after Endor to raise his son and love his wife, but here he was again, a blaster across his lap, plasma grenades clipped to his belt, grim weariness in the set of his mouth. Jyn wondered if she’d ever do the same--leave behind one family to fight for another. She thought she probably would. She felt she already had.

“You’re making me nervous,” Kes said, turning to face her.

“How old are you?” she asked.

Kes made a face.

“The _fark?_ ” he said. In the corner, Kaytoo swiveled to face them with what might have been curiosity.

“How old are you?” Jyn repeated patiently.

“You mean you don’t already know, Miss I-Can-Slice-Anything?”

Jyn narrowed her eyes, a tactic she’d found remarkably effective in reducing conversants of the opposite gender to discomfited, stammering banthas.

“Thirty-five standard,” Kes replied sourly, “Do I get to know why you’re asking?”

“You’re five years older than Cassian?” she said, surprised.

“Four-and-a-half,” Kes corrected warily, “Why?”

“You just seem so much younger,” she replied.

“Uh,” Kes said, “Thanks?”

“That was not a compliment,” Kaytoo supplied.

Jyn sighed, and Kes ignored Kaytoo entirely, adding, “Cass is just old, though.”

Jyn raised a sharp eyebrow.

“Come _on_ , I’m not insulting my best friend,” Kes groaned, “I was just making an observation.”

Across the cabin, Sakas snorted. Han, still pinned under Chewie, groaned.

He wheezed, “Andor was born with a farking stick up his--”

Kes cleared his throat loudly.

“I’d be sure to let him know you said that,” Jyn said sweetly, baring her teeth, “But I don’t think I have to since you left the shipwide comm on.”

Han jerked his chin up to the ceiling where, indeed, a steadily-blinking red light indicated a live transmission from the passenger hold.

“Hey Cass!” Kes called, “We’re defending your honor!”

A long pause. Han remained frozen in place.

Finally--

“It’s good to hear from you,” Cassian’s voice, scratchy and tinny, said drily.

By his tone of voice, Jyn knew that he was speaking to them from the public comm in the control center. Which meant that no fewer than thirty other people had overheard their conversation.

By the look on Han’s face, he had also realized this.

He thumped his head back onto the floor and groaned loudly.

“You know I meant that in the nicest, most complimentary way, Cass,” he said.

Jyn could just _see_ Cassian bristling at Han’s use of the diminutive.

_“Almost took my head off when I first started calling him that,” Kes said fondly over a hurried meal on Bestine._

_“So that’s why you did it.”_

_“Yeah.”_

Somehow, though, she couldn’t see Han charming his way into Cassian’s heart in quite the same fashion.

Thankfully, further conversation was forestalled by a gentle tug that meant they had dropped out of hyperspace.

“Ah. T-1. Pathfinders,” came Admiral Ackbar’s voice, laced with amusement, “Report.”

“Standing by,” the rookie pilot said, as Han was occupied with pulling a Wookie-sized foot out of his mouth.

“Rogue Leader, come in."

Kashyyyk loomed in the viewport, and the light atmosphere evaporated as Chewie stood beside her and looked out at his home, in flames, and said nothing.

“Hey,” Han drawled, his tone belying the tension in his face as he came and stood on Chewie’s other side, looking down at the massed Imperial fleet, “Could we hurry it up? It’s getting kind of hot in here.”

Jyn glanced at him around Chewie’s bulk and watched him reach up and squeeze Chewie’s shoulder.

Their eyes met, and Jyn smiled crookedly.

 _I see right through you, Han Solo_ , she said.

 _You think you’re the only one?_ he replied.

His gaze moved above her shoulder, and Kes came and stood beside them, blaster in hand.

“Lock S-foils in attack position,” Wedge said.

“Great,” Han said grimly as Chewie smacked a fresh cartridge into his bowcaster, “It’s about time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's [notes](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158212808396/alternatively-together-chapter-14-rondo-alla).


	15. Klangfarbenmelodie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han & co. land (sort of) on Kashyyyk, and Luke realizes that Cassian was right all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on places in Chuck Wendig’s _Aftermath_ series.
> 
> Klangfarbenmelodie: The technique of altering the tone color of a single note or musical line by changing from one instrument to another in the middle of a note or line.

Kashyyyk was burning.

It burned just as Scarif had burned, slowly, torn asunder by swirling, roiling forces in opposition, fractured by boiling anger.

“Chewie!” Han shouted, “You’re gonna have to guide us down! Navicomp’s shot!”

Chewie roared, lurching for the controls, searching for the--there, the massive bald expanse of earth that had, years before, given life to the massive wroshyr trees that had been his home. In their place now was the duracrete complex colloquially referred to as Camp Sardo, officially known as Imperial Work Settlement #121. Chewie didn’t care what the fark (as Han would say--he, as the son of Attichitcuk, revered Wookie Chieftan, personally avoided vulgarity) anyone called the place, but he looked down at the livid, searing scar that marked where thousands of years of his people’s history had been destroyed and felt a tremendous rage rise in his soul.

That was where they had to land, or--he glanced at the screaming controls--crash. The Imperials had bombarded most of the rest of the planet, but they’d saved their own installations for last, waiting for their people, the white bucketheads, to evacuate before raining death on the Wookies left behind.

Chewie roared, yanking on the control yoke. This ’ship was no _Falcon_ , but it was one of Contruum’s finest. He shouted at Han to divert power to the forward shields, and his blood-brother sprang to obey, shoving the poor cub-pilot out of the way.

“Hang on, guys!” Han hollered into the cabin, “It’s going to be a bumpy ride!”

Around them, the New Republic’s starfighters swirled, swooping in and out in a modified screen formation, guiding them down. Chewie wondered if Luke, Bright-Cub, was among them. He hoped not. They were no match for Imperial Star Destroyers and their gnasp-swarm TIE fighters.

“Pull up, Chewie!” Han yelled, as they broke through the clouds and the fighters peeled away, “ _Pull up!_ ”

Chewie roared again, firing the emergency reverse thrusters.

They still slammed into the ground with bone-juddering force, enough to hurt small, pale, hairless cubs, and Chewie moaned in concern as the ship settled, reaching for Han.

“I’m fine, Chewie,” Han gasped, taking a knife to his crash harness, “You okay?”

Chewie growled an affirmative, tearing off his harness and pulling Han gently to his feet.

“Everyone okay back there?” Han shouted into the cabin.

A chorus of groans, mostly affirmative.

“Kes hit his head,” Wild-Cub said faintly, “But I don’t think it’s really helped.”

“Fark you,” Hairy-Cub moaned.

“T-1, report,” came Admiral Ackbar’s voice from the splintered, miraculously functional comm unit on the console, “T-1 come in.”

Han smacked the transmit button.

“This is T-1,” he said, “We’re all fine. Ship’s busted, but no casualties.” He sucked in a breath, wincing as his chest complained. “I repeat, no casualties.”

“Acknowledged, T-1,” Ackbar replied

“Okay,” Han said, brushing off his blaster, “We’ll have to catch an Imp ship, maybe a couple, to get everyone out.”

Chewie knew there were close to a thousand of his clan in Camp Sardo. He hoped the other transports had made it down in one piece. Han seemed to have the same thought and leaned back over the comm unit again.

“Admiral, what’s the status on the other transports?”

Brief staticky silence.

“T-1, we have two on the ground. Repeat, we have two operational transports on the ground.”

“What about the others?” Han demanded. There was no way two transports and a few Imperial ’ships would be able to get a thousand Wookies off the planet.

Another staticky silence.

“Everyone get ready to move!” Han shouted into the cabin as he waited.

“T-1,” and this time, it was Cassian’s voice, cold and detached, “You will have two transports to complete evacuation. There will be no further assistance.”

“The _fark!?_ ” Han burst out, head pounding, “What happened to the other twelve?”

Chewie growled at tugged at his arm, gesturing for the access hatch.

“There will be full fighter escort,” Cassian said, “Move quickly.”

“Move quickly, my _farking_ _sainted grandma_ ,” Han muttered.

“T-1, please repeat.”

Han closed his eyes and sucked in a calming breath.

“We’re heading out,” Han said instead, “I get the feeling our comms are going to be patchy, so if you don’t hear from us any earlier, give us one standard to get everyone together at the LPs.”

“You don’t have an hour,” Cassian said tightly, “We can hold them for thirty, forty minutes at most.”

Han winced as a flaming X-wing shrieked by overhead, crashing with a dull boom a kilometer away.

“Fine,” he spat, “Forty minutes at the LPs. That fighter escort better be there.”

“Base One, acknowledged,” Cassian said tersely, “Keep your comms open.”

“ _Home One_ , acknowledged,” Admiral Ackbar said, “We’ll be waiting for you, Solo.”

“Understood. T-1 out,” Han snapped.

He slammed his hand back down on the console again and cut off the transmission. Chewie wordlessly initiated the data-wipe.

“How the fark are we going to fit a thousand Wookies onto two farking ships?” he muttered.

He shook himself and checked his blaster again, stepping slowly into the cabin.

“Let’s go,” Han said as the emergency lights flickered on, illuminating two dozen stern, grimy faces, “The shield generator should be down, so we can move fast. Stay sharp.” He found Kes among the sea of faces, wiping blood out of his eyes, and hesitated. Kes raised his chin and set his jaw. _I’m fine_. “Kes, take Sakas, Tuck, Brooks, Lilla, and Spiderlegs over there to the hangar. Get us some ’ships. Big ones. We have two functional transports and a thousand Wookies. It’s gonna be tight.” He glanced briefly at Jyn and raked his eyes over the remainder. “The rest of you,” he said, “With me.”

They piled out of the mangled transport, running low and spread across the scorched earth. At the edge of the camp, Kes and the others split off, skirting around the main encampment for the hangar. He checked his wrist-chrono. Five minutes gone. Fark.

“Control module,” he said, crouching behind a pile of upturned crates. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the heavily-fortified ferrocrete building looming at the center of the complex. “There. We need to zap it to short out the inhibitor chips. It’ll make our lives a lot easier if we have a thousand Wookies instead of a thousand zombies to help us get everyone out of here.” He glanced at his wrist-chrono again. “Well,” he said with a crooked smile, “We’re sort of in a rush, so it’s going to be a little messy.”

“We don’t mind messy,” Utonia said, baring both sets of large, pointed teeth, hefting her massive blaster cannon in two armored paws.

“I knew you’d say that,” Han said, grinning, “Now, listen up…”

* * *

“120 and 125 are clear!” a comms officer shouted from across the room.

“So are the 100s!” shouted another.

Nearly a hundred liberated camps, transports full of Wookies and the extraction teams that had carved into Imperial compounds, jubilant shouts of triumph, and yet Cassian hovered tensely at the holoprojector, deep in rapid conversation with Admiral Ackbar, directing ’ships, ground troops, fighter squadrons to cover here, fall back there, escort _now_. Luke knew they both had an eye on IWS #121, the largest and most heavily-fortified of the hundred work camps scattered across the planet, and the one with, currently, the greatest odds.

Luke found himself pulled into directing Rogue and Blue Squadrons, headset resting heavily on the crown of his head. All too soon, he realized that they had far too few fighters for the number of transports, which really shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

_Home One_ had taken down one of the Star Destroyers, leaving two circling far beyond the atmosphere, predatory, determined, for some reason, to complete their bombardment of the planet.

“T-1,” crackled a familiar voice over the open comm line, “This is Kilo-Pap. We have the target in sight. Repeat, we have the target in sight, waiting on your mark, over.”

Luke saw Cassian pause in his conversation and toggle his earpiece to Kes’s frequency.

“Rogue Leader,” Luke said into his mic, “Keep an eye on 121. It’s going to be close. ETA--” he glanced at Cassian, who held up two fingers, “Twenty minutes.”

“Copy that,” Wedge replied tightly, “We could use a little help up here.”

“Sorry, Wedge,” Luke said, swallowing, “We’ve thrown everything we have at you.”

_I should be up there_.

“Yeah,” Wedge said, “I know.”

“Kilo-Pap,” Han’s voice blurred, “Copy. On my mark. Three, two, one-- _mark_.”

“Go!” Jyn shouted, over a thunderous boom, blaster fire shrieking, sharp and piercing, “Go, go!”

“This is Kilo-Pap,” Kes said quietly, “We’re moving in.”

“Rogue Four, six o’clock!”

Wedge’s voice snapped across Luke’s secondary frequency.

“Ah, _fark_ ,” Pash Cracken swore, and Luke stiffened, waiting for the snap and fizzle of empty space that meant another gone, another-- “Thanks, Rogue Leader,” Pash said, “Caught me napping.”

“Stay sharp,” Wedge replied.

“Upstairs!” Han was shouting. A deafening blast. “It’s upstairs!”

“Han, go!” Jyn cried, “Go!”

Something blared suddenly, long and loud, shattering conversations.

Officers, enlisted, comms, and intelligence--all ceased for one frozen moment, filled with primal fear.

A stifling presence loomed, massive, on the horizon.

The base-wide alarm sounded again, wailing, moaning, strangely childlike, clamoring for attention.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Cassian stagger, blue light sickly green on his face. The former spy tore his headset off.

“ _Pilots_ ,” he shouted, clutching the holoprojector, “ _To your ‘ships!_ ”


	16. Interlude IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Cassian's birthday.

“Hey,” Leia poked her head into the room, a strange look on her face, “You busy?”

Jyn looked pointedly at her feet on the caf table, which she’d had to pull closer to the sofa in order to reach, then back up at Leia.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Leia said drily, “You mind if I join you?”

“Sure,” Jyn said, budging over half an inch on the sofa.

“Where’s Cassian?” Leia asked, closing the door gently behind her.

“Out with Kes to pick up things from the base,” Jyn replied.

“Ah.”

Leia slumped down to a seat, tucking her feet up under her. She had two datachips in her hand.

“What’re those?” Jyn asked, smelling a difficult conversation and confronting it head-on.

Leia hesitated.

“You know Cassian spent about a year on Alderaan,” she said, looking at Jyn carefully.

“Yeah, just before we met,” Jyn replied, sitting up a little.

Leia turned the datachips over in her hand.

“When he wasn’t on assignment,” she said, “He’d stay on Alderaan because he reported directly to my father.”

“Yeah,” Jyn repeated, mouth curling up at the corners, “Joren Andor. He mentioned he acted as Captain of the Royal Guard?”

“Kind of,” Leia replied, smiling crookedly.

“Yeah.”

“Anyways,” Leia said slowly, looking back down at the datachips in her hand, “One of my aides found a few datachips buried somewhere in my father’s old office on the _Tantive III_ , and he sent them on to me when he saw what was on them.”

Jyn pulled her feet off the caf table and sat up.

“I made a copy,” Leia continued, “So these are for you.”

She held out the datachips.

Jyn stared at them, uncomprehending.

“Why are you giving them to me?” she asked, looking back up at Leia, “They should be Cassian’s.”

“I know,” Leia said, “That’s why I’m giving them to you.”

Jyn reached out hesitantly and took the datachips. They were small and cool in her hand.

“It’s his birthday tomorrow,” she said quietly.

Leia met her gaze evenly.

“I know,” she said.

Jyn looked down again at the datachips.

“I don’t--” she said, then stopped, started again, “I--” She huffed wryly and looked away. “Thanks,” she said.

Leia smiled, small and sad, and Jyn knew she understood.

* * *

Kes barged in on them curled up together at some ungodly hour the next morning, shouting and waving his arms, singing some old Naboo birthday song at the top of his lungs.

Cassian hurled the first thing he grabbed in Kes’s general direction. It turned out to be his old field jacket, and Kes staggered backwards, clawing it from his face.

“Happy birthday, Cass!” he shouted nonetheless.

“Oh, _fark_ ,” Cassian groaned, slumping back against the headboard.

Jyn kicked him and groggily yanked the pillow over her head.

“Please shut him up,” she mumbled, “Or I _will_ shoot him.”

Cassian carefully set his own blaster down on the nightstand, hoping she wouldn’t hear.

She did, of course, and cracked open her eyes, squinting in the light streaming from the hall. She said nothing, just looked at him, at the dying panic in his eyes.

“Happy birthday!” Kes shouted again, “Just thought I’d let you know that you’re officially old now. _Welcome_ ,” he proclaimed grandly, “to the wrong side of thirty!”

Jyn sat up abruptly and hurled their pillow at Kes, who howled and snatched it up off the floor.

“Oh, it’s _on_ , Erso!” he shouted, lunging into the room.

Cassian sighed.

“Can we please--”

His bit off his words as Jyn launched herself across him off the bed, snatching their blanket, twisting it in the air and snapping it at Kes’s legs.

“Please--” Cassian tried again, rolling out of the way as his best friend tripped and nearly squashed him flat.

Kes smacked him full in the face with the pillow, and he growled, shoving Kes aside and wriggling his way to his feet. Jyn pinned Kes to the bed, wrapping the blanket with disturbingly practiced ease around his legs and across his chest, effectively mummifying him.

Cassian reached down with a sigh and picked up his battered jacket, draping it back across the chair by the bed. He scrubbed a hand through his beard.

After a moment’s detente--

“So,” Kes said, grinning up at them, “Is _this_ what you guys get up to when you’re alone?”

Cassian, very red, picked up the pillow and thumped him in the face.

* * *

It wasn’t until much later that afternoon that Jyn looked down at him and said, “I have something for you.”

He mock-frowned, head pillowed in her lap as they sat--or, in his case, lay--by the small creek in the woods just beyond the clearing.

“Should I be worried?” he asked.

Jyn smiled faintly and leaned back against the large, flat rock behind her, bioluminescent orchids glowing soft and gold around them.

“I honestly don’t know,” she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out her datapad.

Cassian watched her lazily, eyes half-closed, as her free hand ran gently through his hair.

“To be honest,” Jyn said, reaching into her pocket, “It’s really from Leia. She gave it to me yesterday and kind of implied it was something I should pass on to you.”

Cassian hummed, deep and content, cracking open an eye to see her insert a datachip into its port. She nudged him with her knee.

“Come on,” she said, “Get up so you can see what it is.”

He grunted, and absently, she balled up her coat and shoved it behind the small of his back as he sat up against the rock.

“I’m old,” he muttered, leaning back.

That meant _thank you_ , she knew.

She handed him her datapad.

“Did Leia say what this is about?” he asked, waiting for the file to load.

Jyn hesitated, then replied, “She said one of her aides found it on the _Tantive III_.”

Cassian stiffened and looked sharply down at her.

“If you don’t want to--” she began.

He shook his head, brow furrowed. Familiar shadows touched his face for a moment, and she could see him fighting them back, back, _back_ and locking them tight in some prison deep within his mind. Compulsively, she reached out and gripped his hand.

He smiled faintly and leaned into her.

This, too, meant _thank you_ , she knew.

The datachip completed its load cycle, and he propped up the datapad on his knees so they could both see its contents.

Video files. Almost a hundred of them.

She felt him swallow, almost convulsively. He jabbed the first one with a finger.

A black screen.

_“I’m not seeing anything.”_

It was Cassian’s voice.

_“It’s on. I know it’s on.”_

Leia, slightly muffled.

_“Here, let me see.”_

_Rustling, crackling, the sounds of shifting fabric._

Suddenly, color broke across the screen, and there was Cassian, without a trace of grey, frowning into the camera. He looked up and said drily--

_“Your gown was covering it.”_

_“It’s not my fault I have to wear this farking thing,” Leia muttered._

_Cassian laughed, an easy, free sound, and straightened, retreating from the camera and revealing the rest of the room: Two long couches pressed up against the walls, possessing a forgotten elegance, sunlight warming polished wood. Cassian went to stand behind the bulk of a massive wooden desk, squinting at a similarly large computer monitor._

_“There,” he said, satisfied._

_“It’s working?” Leia asked._

_Cassian swiveled the monitor around so she could see. The camera shifted closer to the desk, and so did the video image on the monitor._

_Leia laughed, and the camera shook a little._

_“Great,” she said as Cassian smiled and swiveled the monitor back around to face him, “I feel like a proper spy now.”_

_Cassian still smiled, but even on this young, almost unfamiliar face, there was strain._

_Somewhere to the left, a door opened._

Beside her, Cassian tensed. She could sense the muscles coiling, tightening, preparing to bolt. She gripped his hand harder.

_“What’s this?” a new voice, rich and deep, said, “Spies in my office?”_

_The camera turned._

_Bail Organa grinned, broad and fierce._

_“That’s right,” Leia said pertly, “Now, what do you have to say for yourself, Viceroy Organa?”_

_Bail laughed and closed the door behind him, bowing graciously._

_“How’s it coming?” he said to Cassian, who smiled mischievously and said, “It would be a lot easier if she wore a little less.”_

_Leia sighed, exasperated._

_“Ugh,” Bail said succinctly, “I should have you arrested for that.”_

_“I can do that,” Cassian replied cheekily, “I_ _am_ _Captain of your Royal Guard.”_

_“Yeah,” Leia said, “When you’re not off being a super spy doing super-secret stuff.”_

_Bail sighed._

_“Speaking of which…” he said, drawing the word out._

_Cassian straightened, the humor dying from his eyes._

_“Already?” Leia asked, sounding so very young._

_Cassian turned back to the computer, typing quickly._

_“I’ve just received a message from General Rieekan,” Bail said, “He’s waiting for our ’call.”_

_“Okay,” Cassian said, turning back to the camera, back to Leia, and holding out his hand, “We’ll finish this later.”_

_More rumbling, scuffling of cloth, and several moments of disorientation as the camera exchanged hands._

_“That’s pretty small,” Bail said, as Cassian set the camera down on the desk, facing out the window._

Jyn leaned a little closer.

It was Aldera, gleaming white in mid-morning sun.

_“Well done,” Bail continued, “It’ll come in handy, I’m sure.”_

_“Yeah,” Cassian said, voice nearly inaudible over the clicking of keys, “I just wish--”_

Abruptly, the video ended, and screen flickered back to the open datachip folder.

In the silence, the burbling of the stream seemed suddenly loud, intrusive.

Cassian’s reflection in the datapad was ghostly.

Jyn let her fingers run lightly over the back of his hand and waited, patiently.

He swallowed again and blinked hard, jaw tightening. Wordlessly, he brought his free hand back up to the datapad and selected the next video.

As it loaded, he shifted closer and nudged her down so her cheek rested on his shoulder.

That, Jyn knew, meant far more than _thank you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158418341681/alternatively-together-chapter-16-interlude-iv).


	17. Capriccio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some new friends make a surprise appearance on Kashyyyk. Cassian makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New characters from Chuck Wendig’s _Aftermath_ series.

Jyn waited for Han to reappear from the crumbling stairs in the Imperial bunker and gritted her teeth, back pressed to a blast-scorched ferrocrete wall.

They’d been expected, which was unsurprising, given the delay they’d had in the tedious process of crashing their transport. Mortuus was dead, shot through both heads half a step through the door. Jyn had liked him. They’d both been outsiders.

“The fark are you, Han?” she shouted into her commlink. Fark call signs. Han was always changing his, and damn it all if the Empire didn’t already know who they were already.

There was no reply, and Jyn peeked out from her cover again, looking up the stairs. Still no sign. A blaster bolt shrieked by a hair’s breadth from her nose, and she ducked back behind the wall.

“Chewie--” she said to the Wookie beside her, climbing into a crouch and ignoring the subsequent stab of pain, “--Stay here. I’m going after him.”

Chewie moaned.

“No, _stay here!_ ” Jyn shouted, “How many times do I have to say it? Stay _here!_ ”

Without giving him a chance to reply, she sprinted across the open hall to the stairs, firing as she went. Small and quick, she sprang up the stairs, choking on dust, and dove around the corner.

The sounds of blasterfire were muffled up here, and the fight below seemed a distant thing. Jyn switched off her comlink, breathing softly in the half-light. She wasn’t so stupid as to call out for Han, not in this quiet, unnatural stillness. Hugging the walls, blaster in hand, she crept, one foot directly in front of the other, through the empty room lined with rows and rows of processing units, gleaming and terribly out of place.

From the next room, she heard the low rumbling of voices.

“Hey,” a muffled voice she immediately recognized as Han’s said, “We’re on the same farking side.”

“What makes you think that?” came another voice, male, unfamiliar, sharp and pointed, clearly of the Core.

 _Fark, Han_ , Jyn thought, allowing irritation to flood through her for just a moment.

“I know a defector when I see one.”

Jyn pressed her lips together, stealing closer to the door.

“You’re quite confident in your abilities, Mr.--”

A pause.

“Solo,” Han said, “Han Solo.”

Another pause, longer. Jyn tensed, back pressed again to the wall just beside the open door.

“Look,” Han said impatiently, “If you’re not gonna shoot me or anything, I really need to deactivate the control module and get a thousand Wookies outta here before this place blows.”

Another pause.

“You’re welcome to help if you want,” Han added, “The pay’s not great, but--”

A massive crash.

Jyn spun around the corner, blaster raised.

In a small storeroom, Han stood with his blaster drawn, standing between two men, one in Imperial uniform with blaster also drawn, his back to Jyn, and the other, clearly the source of the crash, in a tattered New Republic uniform, breathing heavily, leaning on the pile of crates he had knocked over upon his entrance.

“What the hell?” Han said, turning to this second man, “Who’re you?”

“Conder,” the man in the Imperial uniform said tightly, blaster unwavering from its uncomfortablly close proximity to Han’s face.

“What the fark’s going on here?” Han demanded.

“Conder Kyl,” the second, sandy-haired man gasped, one arm wrapped around his stomach, “Slicer, New Republic.” He looked up at Han and said wryly, “Good to meet you, General Solo.”

Han winced.

“Not General anymore,” he said, “But hi.” He turned back to the Imperial man, saw Jyn hovering in the doorway, blaster trained on the man’s back, and rolled his eyes. “We’re all on the same side, _right?_ ” he demanded.

“ _Sinjir_ ,” Conder said evenly, “He’s one of us.”

The Imperial man dropped his weapon. After a moment, so did Jyn.

“And you are?” Conder asked, raising his voice and addressing Jyn.

“That’s Erso,” Han said carelessly, and she could have shot him right then and there, “But we’re here to blow stuff up, not make friends or whatever.” He eyed Conder. “You wait here. Erso and I’ll go blow up the control module. Mister--” he glanced at Sinjir, “--Crisis of Conscience here can stay with you, since you seem so _familiar_ with each other.”

Jyn was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one in the room who was seriously considering the ramifications of shooting Han Solo, Hero of the Rebellion, in the face. She crossed the room in several quick strides and seized him by the arm.

“Let’s go,” she snapped, pushing Han out the door before anyone could speak.

“What?” Han demanded, looking down at her as they carefully made their way down the next hall.

Jyn ignored him, her eyes sharp, ears straining.

“Were you _worried_ about me?” Han said, eyebrows raised.

“Shut up,” she hissed, “Where is this thing?”

Han shot her a look but relented.

“Chewie said ‘upstairs,’” he grunted, “This is upstairs. It’s around here somewhere.”

Jyn swore under her breath.

“You owe us big time for this,” she snapped.

Han’s comlink crackled loudly, and Jyn turned to glare at him again.

“Switch that _off_ ,” she snarled.

“Your boyfriend’ll kill me if I do,” Han said easily, though he rummaged around in a vest pocket and popped a grimy earpiece into his ear. He smirked at her. “Happy?”

Jyn stifled the urge to punch him straight on the nose.

“It’s really empty up here,” she said instead.

Han rolled his eyes.

“Anyone see you come up?”

“Any Imps?” Jyn shrugged, “Probably.” She caught his look and said, “We need to hurry up and get back down there.”

Han checked his wrist-chrono.

Fifteen minutes left.

“In here, then,” he said, pointing at the room up ahead, “It has to be in here.”

It was a well-rehearsed performance. She blasted the access panel, the door sparked open, and he burst in, clearing corners and taking out the two, three troopers at their stations. She took out the fourth, joining him at what clearly was the control module, which hummed red and blue.

Wordlessly, she stepped forward and planted her plasma charges. Han tossed her his own, and she looked up to him in question

“Probably’d be a good idea to take out the power core too,” he said, “Just for good luck.”

“Right,” she said, crawling under the module and activating the magnetoclamps, sticking the charges to the humming power core beneath their feet. “How long?” she asked, priming the timer.

Han turned away, speaking into his comlink.

“Kilo-Pap, come in,” he said.

No response

“Kilo-Pap, what’s your status?” he asked.

Unasked, Jyn flicked on her comlink. She listened for a moment and shook her head.

“Fark,” Han muttered, then, more loudly, he repeated, “Kes, report.”

Still no response.

They exchanged a glance.

“One minute, then,” Han said tightly, “We gotta get outta here.”

While Jyn coded the timer, Han shouted down the line again.

“Chewie!” he called, “We got one minute to get outta here.”

Together, he and Jyn sprinted back down the hall. Bursting back into the second room on the level, Han shouted at the two men, waving his blaster, “Let’s go, let’s go!”

Conder and Sinjir rose together, Sinjir pushing the smaller, slighter slicer before him as they hurtled back through the room of processors. Han stormed to the front, preceding them down the stairs back into the roaring firefight.

“Come on!” Han shouted, and Chewie, spotting them immediately, roared the same. They stormed for the exit, an ordered retreat, falling back, covering, falling back, covering.

Conder stumbled, and Jyn looked down and saw that it was Mortuus. She felt Han’s rage, but there was no time, no time--they had to run, run, _run_ , so she pulled him up before Sinjir could and pushed him on, out the door into the seething mess of a nearly-liberated internment camp.

Throngs of Wookies, blinking as though emerging from a long sleep, stood in the dusty lanes, some tearing down ramshackle lean-to’s, some converging on the command compound with a dangerous air, most looking up at the sky, at the brilliant flashes and shrieks of the fight above.

“Get back!” she shouted, waving her blaster, “Move back!”

Chewie roared the same in Shyrrriwook, and some Wookies, obviously recognizing him, took up the call as well, pushing others back, away.

Jyn shoved Conder before her again, pushing him flat to the ground this time, and threw herself over him just as Han slammed into her back.

The compound blew.

* * *

Cassian shunted all command for the situation on Kashyyyk onto Admiral Ackbar with a terse explanation, then collapsed the holo of Kashyyyk and brought up Yavin 4 instead.

“How long do we have?” he demanded.

“Fifteen minutes until they drop out of hyperspace, sir,” a young comms officer replied.

“Shield generator is up,” another said, “Power is holding steady.”

Cassian turned to Luke.

“You need to go,” he said quietly, urgently.

“What?” Luke said.

“You have to find it,” Cassian said, “Whatever Jedi thing it is they’re after. Find it. And get it out of here.”

Luke’s stomach bottomed out somewhere in the vicinity of his boots.

“ _Cassian_ \--” he hissed, stepping closer.

“--Judging by the size of the signal, half their fleet’s on its way,” Cassian snarled, “We can hold them off for a few hours, maybe. Longer if we force them to the ground.” He lowered his voice, “But on reserves, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Did you send out the--”

“--distress signal?” Cassian snapped, “Of course. But who will come? Who _can_ come? Even from Contruum, it’d take them a few hours, and it’s not like they have troops to spare right now.”

He didn’t state the obvious, but Luke heard it all the same.

 _This was a trap and you knew it_.

“So go,” Cassian said, also meaning-- _The Empire can’t have you either_. “Find it.”

They stared each other down, but they all knew who would win this last fight.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said.

Cassian turned away and pulled his headset back on.

“Green Squadron,” he commanded, “Report.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158455564886/alternatively-together-chapter-17-capriccio). (They're a little more important this chapter.)
> 
> Just wanted to say in general--cheers/thanks (beginning to realise "cheers" might be a weird thing for Americans outside a pub) for all your kind words! It's great to know people are enjoying this frantic mess.


	18. Accelerando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kes finds himself in a very unfortunate situation. Shara has her hands full. Leia is... well, Leia.

When the base-wide alert went off, Shara knew.

Poe toddled over to her, fear on his face, hands clasped to his ears.

“Mama!” he shouted, “Mama, stop!”

Beside her, Pres said nothing and did not move.

“Come here,” she whispered, pulling Poe into her arms and standing.

“We have to go,” Pres said, tugging on her hand, “We have to leave.”

She looked down at him. The alarm stopped.

“I think we need to stay here,” she said, “We’re safe here.”

Pres shook his head, curls flying.

“No,” he said, “We _need_ to leave.”

Frightened, Poe started crying, sobbing and hiccuping in her arms.

“It’s okay,” she shushed gently, senses sharp, eyes on the door, “It’s okay, I’m here.”

She didn’t have her blaster with her, hadn’t carried one in months, hadn’t shot one in years. Were there Imperials on the planet? Were they crowding the skies, raining down plasma shells?

She sat down again and pulled her comlink from her belt, hesitating. Pres tugged sharply at her hand again.

“Please,” he begged, close to tears himself, “We have to find Luke.”

She shushed Poe again and asked, “Why do we have to find Luke?”

“Because he needs our help,” Pres said earnestly, “We need to help him, _please_.”

“How do you know this?” Shara demanded sharply, “Why does Luke need our help?”

“ _Please_ ,” Pres said, clutching Cassian’s book to his chest, “Please, I don’t know, but we have to.”

He looked up at her tearfully.

“I can’t leave you two here alone,” she said, “Luke can take care of himself.”

“ _No_ ,” Pres said, shaking his head again.

“I can have someone help him, how about that?” Shara suggested, pulling out her comlink again.

“ _No!_ ” Pres shouted, “It has to be us. It _has_ to be.”

“Pres--” she said in her sternest voice.

He wrenched loose from her grip and ran from the room, surefooted, without hesitation.

“Pres!” she shouted.

Poe started crying again, wailing into her shoulder. She gripped him tightly, heart pounding, and hurried out the door into the hall, narrowly avoiding a squad of ground troops as they jogged by, boots thumping, blasters held across their chests, grim determination on their faces.

“Pres!” she shouted again, looking both ways.

She caught sight of a small blur of movement, running against the grain.

“Pres, come back!” she called again, pushing upstream past the military personnel, the repulsorcarts of ammunition.

With both hands, she held Poe to her chest, cradling him as she wove her way through men and women with blasters, plasma cannons, naked vibroblades, Pres always just ahead, slipping between legs, around upturned chairs and forgotten storage containers with unsettling ease.

He didn’t hesitate when they emerged in the main hangar bay, where the last of the heavy destroyers were lifting off.

“Pres!” she shouted again, filled with fear, “Pres, stop! Be careful!”

But the boy ran straight across the hangar to the far corner, where a young man stood in front of a battered airspeeder. 

“Master Luke!” Pres shouted.

Luke jumped and turned, arms crossed tightly across his chest, brow furrowed in confusion until he looked down and saw Pres streaking towards him. Something--something _knowing_ crossed his face. Something old and resigned.

Shara hurried up behind Pres and seized his shoulder.

“Pres,” she said sharply, tugging him away, “ _What_ do you think you’re doing?” She shot Luke a look that said _say nothing_.

But Luke crouched before the boy and looked at him with frightening gravity.

“You know what’s going on, don’t you?” he said.

Suddenly struck silent, Pres shook his head, stepping back into Shara’s arms.

“But you understand,” Luke pressed, “At least a little.”

“We need to help you,” Pres said quietly.

Luke’s shoulders slumped slightly, and Shara had seen this before, this shifting of personalities that defined the ongoing conflict between man and Jedi.

“Okay,” Luke Skywalker said, all soft golden hair and bright blue eyes, “Tell me what to do.”

* * *

Kes had been shot before. Had _definitely_ been shot before, in his ten-odd years with the Pathfinders, in all different places on all different planets.

He knew, instantly, though, that this wasn’t quite the same.

He’d never been shot in the arse before. He thought he really could have done without the experience.

“Put me _down!_ ” he howled over the shriek of blaster fire, “Put me the _fark_ down, Kay! I’m _fine!_ ”

Kaytoo sprinted the last few steps to cover behind a trolley of what Kes hoped were empty fuel tanks and carefully set him down on his side.

Kes groaned, pressing his hand behind him and pulling it away bloody.

“Fark,” he muttered, jamming his second-to-last cartridge into into his blaster with a trembling hand.

Kaytoo hovered over him.

“Your injuries are not life-threatening,” he said, reaching down again, “If you would--”

“ _Don’t touch me_ ,” Kes snarled, fumbling for his comlink on his belt and finding it missing. He looked up at Kaytoo, scrubbing sweat out of his eyes. “Any word from Han?”

Kaytoo crouched lower, bent double at the waist, as fresh blaster fire shrieked overhead.

“My comm functions have been disabled,” Kaytoo said, trenchantly indicating a large, smoking hole in his chassis.

“Ah, fark,” Kes repeat, propping himself up on an elbow and breathing deeply through his nose, “Did you get a visual on the rest of the team?”

“No,” Kaytoo said acidly, “I was too busy saving your... “ He paused significantly, then added acerbically, “...life.”

“It didn’t need saving,” Kes grumbled, “I got shot in the arse. I’ll live.”

“Not if we stay here,” Kaytoo said.

Kes sighed.

“Thank you for that,” he said. Taking another deep breath, he asked, “How many ‘ships did you count in here?”

“Operationally, sixteen starfighters, five cargo transports, and one light cruiser. Practically,” Kaytoo continued, “we will be able to fit no more than seventy to seventy-five adult Wookies onto each transport and two hundred onto the cruiser.” He paused, looking down at Kes. “Provided we gain control of the hangar before the rest of the fleet is destroyed.”

Kes checked his wrist chrono and swore again, heaving himself into a crouch.

“Shut up,” he snapped, when he caught Kaytoo shiftily draw his shoulders back--a clear precursor to some snarky comment.

“I didn’t say anything,” Kaytoo said, affronted.

“I don’t care.” Kes brought his blaster back up again, couched against his shoulder. “Come on. We gotta catch up to everyone and get those ’ships.”

“There still won’t be enough--”

“--We’ll worry about that later,” Kes snarled, “Anything we can get will help. _Anything_.”

He turned away and lurched to his feet again, pretending he didn’t notice Kaytoo lunge out before him, a seven-foot-tall, overbearing durasteel shield.

* * *

Leia had a bad feeling about… something.

It had been growing, slowly, ever since she’d left Yavin 4 in a fit of childish pique. It distracted her, left her staring vacantly out the window of her Senate offices on Chandrila while her long-suffering aide waited patiently for her to finish her sentence. When the silence continued, he cleared his throat and prompted, “Senator Organa…?”

She blinked and turned back to him.

“Sorry,” she said, “What was I saying?”

“The term limit amendment, Senator,” he replied, shaking fair hair out of his pale eyes. On anywhere but Alderaan, he might have been considered beautiful.

She found herself thinking about Han.

The bad feeling grew stronger.

“Belo,” she asked, “How long would it take to have the _Tantive III_ prepared for departure?”

“The _Tantive III_ , Senator?”

“Yes.”

She looked up at him, full in the face. He’d been with her since the Rebellion. There was no doubt he recognized her tone of voice.

“If I send word now,” Belo said evenly, “Within the hour, Senator, if it’s urgent.”

She reached out to Luke and felt just the faintest the glimmer of fear.

“What about,” she said, leaning back in her seat, “The Chandrilan fleet?”

“The entire fleet, Senator?” Belo’s typically gravity-bound brows shot up to his hairline.

“If it was urgent,” Leia said blandly, “How many fighters could I muster in an hour?”

“Senator,” Belo said, “You are aware that half the ‘fleet’s been sent to Kashyyyk.”

“Well, I’m sending the other half,” Leia said, standing suddenly, “Actually, I’ll be _taking_ them.”

“Senator,” Belo sighed, “This is the capitol. I don’t think--”

“--I’m going to speak with Chancellor Mothma,” Leia said, already halfway across the room, “Please let her know I’m coming.”

“Of course, Senator,” Belo replied as the door shut in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158612624436/alternatively-together-chapter-18-accelerando).


	19. Pizzicato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kes makes a decision. So does Luke.

Luke sat in the cockpit and wiped the palms of his hands on the legs of his trousers.

Shara glanced over at him.

“You okay?” she asked, flicking automatically through the preflight check.

Luke barked out a stiff laugh which was so uncharacteristic that she actually stopped, hands dropping to her sides.

“Luke,” she said uneasily, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, swallowing hard as he fumbled with his crash harness.

With that, Shara understood immediately.

“You haven’t flown since,” she said.

Luke shook his head, flushing red.

“Just my speeder,” he said, “but that’s different.”

Shara looked at him evenly.

“You don’t have to sit up here,” she said quietly, glancing behind her at Pres, who sat quietly in the rear seat, Poe in his lap.

Luke shook his head again, clenching and unclenching his hands.

“I’ll have to deal with it sooner or later, right?”

Shara smiled grimly, resuming her check.

“Right,” she said. After a brief pause as they waited for the engine to power on, Luke clenching his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would break, Shara spoke again, “So what’s the plan? We fly around and look for some Jedi thing?”

Luke shrugged uncomfortably.

“That’s what Cassian said.”

Shara glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Cassian,” she said.

“Yeah,” Luke replied uncomfortably.

Shara turned to look him full in the face.

“He knew this would happen,” she said.

“Yeah,” Luke said bitterly, “And I didn’t listen. Why don’t I ever _listen?_ ”

* * *

Han pulled her to Jyn to her feet by the back of her collar. Under almost any other circumstances, she would have punched him.

As it was, she blinked rapidly, bent double, wheezing for breath.

“Hey, _hey_ ,” Han was saying, inches from her face, “You alright, sister?”

“ _Fark y_ \--” she gasped.

“--Ah, you’re fine,” Han said, turning and shouting something deafeningly loud in Shyriiwook just over her head.

Jyn winced, straightening slowly, forcing her lungs to reinflate. Around her swarmed streams and streams of Wookies, shuffling in orderly lines to some unknown destination.

“C’mon,” Han said, grabbing her by the arm, “We gotta go.”

Jyn snatched her arm away and gestured for him to go ahead with the butt of her blaster. Han rolled his eyes but obeyed, lurching into a run to keep pace with the Wookies.

“Hangar?” Jyn wheezed, head pounding, struggling to keep pace.

“Yeah,” Han huffed, glancing down at her, “The slicer and his Imp went on ahead with Chewie to see if they could help.”

“Kes?” Jyn asked.

Han shook his head.

Jyn grunted out a curse.

“Yeah,” Han muttered.

“Cassian?” Jyn asked, “Anyone from command know what’s going on?”

Han shot her another look.

“What?” Jyn demanded.

“It’s just Ackbar,” Han replied, darting a grimy sleeve up to his forehead and pushing away the sweat, “Base One’s dropped off the comms.”

Jyn stumbled. Han hauled her back to her feet.

“ _What?_ ” she hissed, shaking him off again, “ _Why?_ ”

“Won’t say.”

Jyn reached for her comlink, but Han stopped and gripped her wrist, the sea of Wookies parting around them.

“That’s not going to help anything,” he snapped, jaw clenched.

“They can’t just _keep_ these things from us!” Jyn shouted.

“They can,” Han growled, knuckles white around her wrist, “And they will. What difference does it make, anyways? We’re all out here, and they’re all out there. Nothing we can do about it.”

Jyn curled her lip in a snarl and jerked her hand away.

“ _Focus_ , Jyn, dammit,” Han spat, “I don’t need this from you right now.”

Jyn glared at him for another moment longer, then turned and continued her sprint for the hangar, leaving him behind.

“Fark,” Han muttered under his breath, and followed.

* * *

“Sakas!” Kes shouted, “Your six!”

Sakas dove to the side just as a full complement of stormtroopers burst around the corner.

“ _Fark!_ ” Kes snarled hoarsely, pressing himself back tighter against the side of a cargo transport, “How many of them are there?”

He’d lost Kaytoo somewhere in the lines and lines of starships. Some distant part of him hoped the droid was alright.

“Don’t know,” Sakas gasped, sliding to a stop next to him, reloading her blaster with grim determination, “You holding out okay?”

“I’m fine. Can you raise Han?” Kes demanded tersely. He checked his wrist-chrono. “We’ve got maybe ten minutes before our escort’s due in.”

Sakas pulled her comlink from her belt.

“Han--” she began.

The hangar doors behind them burst open with a crash. Sakas dropped her comlink and whirled, blaster raised, pushing Kes behind her.

A horde of Wookies thundered through the open doors, armed only with boiling wrath.

That was probably enough, Kes thought, watching as a stormtrooper went flying through the air.

“C’mon!” he shouted over the din, “That’s our cue!”

Sakas hauled him to his feet, and they sprinted to the first in the line of transports. Miraculously, Kaytoo was there, keying in access to the doors.

He looked over his shoulder and said with customary acerbity, “You’re late.”

“Shut up,” Kes growled, crouching low and peering around the ship into the fray. It was only a matter of time before the Wookies gained the upper hand through sheer force of numbers. “Just get this thing open and head to the next one. Sakas’ll send them your way.”

“There aren’t enough ships,” Kaytoo said, “We will only be able to--”

“--just _get it done!_ ” Kes shouted, wiping blood and sweat from his eyes.

He thought of Poe, of Shara.

 _Fark you, Han Solo_ , he thought bitterly.

Turning back to Sakas, he commanded, “Once this thing is full, you leave, you understand? Get out of here and send everyone down to the next and the next and the next. Comm this out with everyone--they should all be waiting for Kaytoo to get them in.”

“Got it,” Sakas said evenly, then as Kes made to stand again, she grabbed his arm, dark eyes piercing, “ _Where_ are you going?”

“I need to find a comm unit,” he snapped, “Two other transports made it down with us, and we need to get them over here.”

“I’ll go,” Sakas said, standing, “You stay here, take them up.”

Three years ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Wouldn’t have _dreamed_ of hesitating.

But he thought of Poe again, thought of his bright, sunny laugh, his unconditional love.

He thought of Shara, her quiet wit, her unflinching dedication.

“No,” he said, pushing them aside with tremendous effort. He stared Sakas down. “I’m going. That’s an order.”

“You’re _retired_ ,” Sakas hissed, hand still gripping his arm, “And shot in the ass. I don’t need to listen to you.”

The door to the transport clanked open.

Kes jerked his arm away and stepped back.

“Get to the next one, Kay,” he snapped. The droid hesitated, shifting uneasily. “ _Go, damn it!_ ” Kes shouted.

Kaytoo went.

Sakas looked at him, a mixture of confusion and uncertainty in her face.

“Kes--” she said.

“ _Stay here_ ,” he demanded, “I’ll find a way to make this work.”

Sakas knew him well enough to understand what he was saying. Still, she tried.

“Kes--” she said again.

He shook his head.

“Jyn’s family too,” he replied, “They all are.”

“You idiot,” Sakas said, giving him one last, long look before pulling herself into the ‘ship.

Kes waited until the engines were roaring to sprint back across the hangar, shouting and waving his arms--

_Here! Here! Here’s the way home!_

* * *

“I don’t even know what we’re looking for,” Luke said, “A gate? A tunnel? A gate to a tunnel?”

“Now would be a good time to figure that out,” Shara said tightly. She glanced over her shoulder into the rear seat. “Any ideas, Pres?”

Pres chewed his bottom lip. Poe looked up at him curiously, happy to be flying with his new best friend.

“I don’t know,” Pres said quietly, “Where are we going right now?”

“Away,” Shara said, “Vornez,” she clarified, admitting, “It was automatic.”

She looked to Luke.

“You looked around here yet?”

“I only had two days to actually do any looking,” Luke replied, shifting uneasily, “And your tree throws me off a little.”

“Oh,” Shara said, frowning, “Sorry? I didn’t--”

“--no, it’s not a bad thing,” Luke said quickly, “It’s just--” he made a kind of helpless gesture.

“A Force thing,” Shara supplied.

“--Everything around it is so _bright_ in the Force,” Luke explained, “It kind of makes it hard to… look for things.”

“Oh,” Shara said, feeling, for the hundredth time that day, completely out of her depth, “Should we be heading somewhere else then?”

Luke sighed in frustration.

“I don’t--”

“--No.”

They turned as one to face Pres.

“No?” Luke repeated, “You see something?”

Pres shook his head uncertainly.

“It’s just… A feeling,” he said timidly.

Shara glanced at Luke again.

“Okay,” Luke said, chewing his bottom lip and turning back to face the forward windscreen, “Okay. Let’s go take a look.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's (very brief) notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158684219061/alternatively-together-chapter-19-pizzicato).


	20. Resonance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dramatic rescue.

“I hate to sound like Kaytoo,” Shara said, “But this was a really bad plan.”

Pres looked up at her.

“There’s a plan?” he said, confused.

“Exactly,” Shara replied, marching on ahead, Poe in her arms.

After a moment’s hesitation, Luke reached down and took Pres’s hand. The little boy followed him willingly. They passed the young Force-sensitive tree, which thrummed brightly in the back of Luke’s mind, welcoming, comforting.

“Well?” Shara demanded, looking back at him. Poe squirmed in her arms, and she set him down in the grass.

Luke, in turn, looked down at Pres.

The boy shifted uneasily, reaching out to the tree with one hand, the other firmly grasping Luke’s.

“That’s bright,” Pres whispered, clouded eyes wide with wonder.

Luke and Shara exchanged a look.

“What is?” Luke asked carefully.

Pres did not respond, slipping out of Luke’s hand and stepping closer to the tree, hand outstretched.

“Everything,” he said, looking down with his sightless eyes, “It’s glowing.”

Shara and Luke looked down. Wildgrass rippled around their boots.

“What do you mean, it’s glowing?” Shara asked, neck hairs prickling.

“Like the tree,” Pres replied, “The ground.” He looked up at her. “It’s glowing.”

Shara turned back to Luke, who had his eyes closed, brow furrowed. Beside her, Poe bounced happily on the balls of his feet.

“Oh,” Luke breathed, “ _Oh_.”

“What?” Shara demanded.

Luke’s eyes fluttered open, bright, excited.

“There’s a Force nexus,” he said, bounding to the tree, “right under us.”

“A what?” Shara asked.

“It’s--” Luke twitched, searching for words, “It’s a thing where the Force is really strong. Where it gathers.”

“Okay,” Shara said, drawing the word out, “And that means...?”

“The Jedi City,” Luke replied, “It’s down there. It has to be.” He turned back to the softly-glowing tree, voice hushed with awe, “The Force has always been strong here, but I thought that was just because of this... tree.” He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Ben was _right_.”

“So what do we do now?” Shara asked, pulling Poe back into her arms, “Grab shovels and start digging?”

Luke scowled, flesh hand coming up to tap his cybernetic hand.

“There has to be an entrance somewhere,” he said, circling the tree as if a doorway would magically appear.

“Even if there was one, that doesn’t solve anything,” Shara said tightly.

“What do you mean?” Luke said, pausing mid-stride.

“The Empire’s probably already broken atmo,” Shara said, stepping forward unconsciously and taking Pres’s hand, “We’re running on reserves.”

“But this has to help,” Luke insisted, “It’s a Jedi city. Something in there _has_ to help.”

“What’s it going to do?” Shara demanded, “Vanish the Imperial fleet?” She snorted, “Good luck with that. It’s a city; we can’t take it with us. If we want to protect it, keep it out of Imperial hands, whatever, then we have to keep the planet.”

_On reserves, it’s only a matter of time._

Luke flinched, centering, grounding himself.

“We’ll figure something out,” Jedi Master Luke Skywalker said firmly

* * *

There had been many times in the past year that Cassian had regretting accepting command of Base One. He’d grown up on the front lines and refined his skills prowling the back alleys of the Outer Rim. Here, he was confined, tethered to this place, this base, this room, by the expectations and belief of others who looked to him for guidance as half the full force of the Empire’s fleet dropped out of hyperspace just beyond their meager planetary shields.

He could pretend for them. That was something he was good at.

He could not save them. He’d never been able to.

“This is Green Leader,” L’ulo said evenly in his headphones, “Standing by.”

“This is Feral Leader,” Alcina Ragnos said, “Standing by.”

Two squadrons. Thirty-two fighters and bombers. That’s all they had.

This was a battle that would end on the planet. Already, his troops were in place, battalions of young and old alike, veterans and recruits together, waiting silently under rock and tree, waiting and praying for the fighters to give them just the slightest chance.

Cassian knew the Empire would be headed for these temples, for this main complex. They’d been here before. They’d held the planet for years before the Rebellion had returned.

There were three Star Destroyers above the atmosphere.

Three Star Destroyers.

Cassian folded his arms and sunk his chin down to his chest. Everyone knew they would never win an outright engagement with the Empire. They’d survived this long on cunning and innovation, stinging and running, stinging and running--at least until Endor, which had been as much of a surprise for them as it had been for the Empire.

Clearly, however, the war was still far from over.

When he had assumed command of Base One, Cassian had made it clear that their primary focus during the course of the reconstruction would be a re-evaluation of the defenses that had been so quickly overrun after the destruction of the first Death Star.

These modifications had been drilled and drilled again, endlessly, because everyone also knew that when the Empire came again for Yavin 4, they would come to destroy.

Cassian fixed his eyes on the blinking holomap.

“Green Leader,” he said, a sudden thought-- _Shara_ \--flashing across his mind, “Prepare to engage.”

“Copy, Base One,” L’ulo replied.

Shara and Poe--Pres? He clamped that thought tightly down, tying it off ruthlessly. They were here. They were safe in the base. Safer than any other place on the planet.

The three Star Destroyers paused just beyond the planetary shield.

And the bombardment began.

* * *

Han watched Kes barrel towards them across the vast, open space of the hangar with something akin to horrified disbelief.

“The _fark--?_ ” he muttered, breaking off and bellowing over his shoulder, “Cover him!”

Beside him, Jyn laid down a stream of strafing cover fire.

“What’s he _doing?_ ” she shouted, eyes skimming the balcony above.

“I don’t wanna know,” Han replied, grimly taking out a ‘trooper with a shot to the chest, blaster pistol steadied on the crate before him.

“He’s limping,” Jyn said.

Han peeked over the edge of the crate.

“He’s fine,” he snorted, “Shot in the ass."

“ _What?_ ” Jyn turned sharply to him.

Han shrugged.

“Experience,” he said, “I know it when I see it.”

Jyn took another moment to stare at him as more Wookies stormed by, filled with bloodlust. Han ignored her.

“Hurry the fark up!” he shouted as Kes stopped to divert an oncoming horde of Wookies, blaster gripped in both hands, face twisted tight in pain or concentration.

Six paces away from them, a blaster bolt clipped him in the shoulder, sending him staggering forwards. Instinctively, Jyn sprinted forward, ignoring Han’s shout of caution, and yanked him to cover. They collapsed together behind the crate again, chests heaving.

“Comm,” Kes gasped, pale and strained, “Mine’s shot. Comm Cass. The other two transports are still missing.”

“Fark,” Han muttered, whipping his comlink out, “ _Home One_ , this is T-1. Where are those two transports?”

Jyn pressed her hand to Kes’s shoulder, and he yelped, twisting violently away.

“It’s not too bad,” she said, pulling off her scarf and pressing it to the sluggishly-bleeding wound.

“ _Home One_ ,” Han repeated sharply. A plasma shell detonated with bone-juddering force no more than a click away. “ _Home One,_ come in.”

Kes slammed his head back against the crate as Jyn pressed down harder, clutching his blaster convulsively.

Han swore under his breath.

“There’s not enough room for everyone,” Kes gritted out, catching his eye, “Even with the transports, there’s not enough room. We can get maybe half of them out on the Imp ships if we can get all of them them loaded up.”

“How long until exfil escort?” Jyn grunted, tying her scarf tightly around Kes’s shoulder.

Han didn’t need to glance at his chrono to answer.

“None,” he replied grimly, “We’re outta time.”

“Fark that,” Kes spat, “There has to be some other way to get everyone out.”

Another plasma shell detonated, buckling the far hangar wall.

The first Wookie-laden transport lurched into the air. Kes thought he glimpsed Sakas at the controls.

“ _Home One_ !” Han shouted into his comlink again, “ _Home One,_ first transport is headed out!”

Still more Wookies streamed by, and fire within the hangar had all but ceased, stormtroopers clawing their way out, fleeing the oncoming bombardment.

Jyn looked Kes in the eye.

“Go,” she said. She turned to Han. “You too.”

“Not a chance, sister,” Han shot back, pulling himself to his feet, scanning the hangar for a familiar face, “You’ve got a farking kid now.”

“So will you,” Jyn shot back, also standing.

“ _What!?_ ” Kes blurted.

Han rounded on her.

“Who the fark told you?” he demanded.

“Why does it matter?” Jyn retorted.

“Andor,” Han growled, “I knew it. Of course she’d tell _him_.”

“ _Han_ ,” Jyn snapped.

“Guys,” Kes said wearily, “Now really isn’t the time.”

Han and Jyn stared each other down.

“T-1, come in,” Admiral Ackbar’s voice crackled from Han’s comlink.

Eyes still fixed on Jyn, Han spat, “This is T-1. Where the _fark_ have you guys been?”

“T-1, prepare to load. We’re sending a ‘ship down.”

Han’s face twisted.

“A ship?” he snarled, “ _A_ ship!? We’ve got five hundred Wookies here with no way out, and you’re sending us _one measly ship!?_ ”

Crackling silence. Han clutched his comlink so tightly Jyn thought it would snap in two.

“T-1,” Admiral Ackbar said mildly, “Prepare to receive the _Tantive III_. Landing in T-minus two.”

The comlink landed with a loud clank on the ferrocrete hangar floor.

“T-1, please acknowledge,” Admiral Ackbar crackled.

Jyn snatched up the comlink.

“This is T-1,” she said, “Acknowledged. _Tantive III_ landing in T-minus two.”

“T-1, opening com line.”

“T-1, this is the _Tantive III_ , call Sundered Heart, SH,” a very familiar voice said, “Requesting landing zone in T-minus two.”

Han made a desperate grab for the comlink, but Jyn twisted away.

“Copy that, SH,” Jyn said fiercely, “It’s the smoking plain just north of the compound. We’ll light the farking thing up.”

Kes lurched to his feet. Eyes fixed on the comlink in Jyn’s hand, Han nevertheless reached out instinctively to steady him.

“Copy that, T-1,” Leia Organa said, a grim smile in her voice, “See you there.”

The last Imperial transport roared by overhead.

Into the confusion, Kes raised his blaster rifle and fired into the air.

“ _This way!_ ” he shouted to the remaining Wookies, waving his good arm.

Han took up the cry, climbing onto the crate and roaring, “ _This way!_ ” A fierce grin lit his face. “ _This way to the princess!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got three back-to-back trips lined up this week--one to the middle of a bloody desert, one to the middle of some bloody mountains, and one to the literal middle of bloody nowhere, which means updates… will be spotty. Soz in advance.
> 
> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158867180136/alternatively-together-chapter-20-resonance).


	21. Interlude V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prelude to Fest.

By this time, they’ve begun to see the worst of each other.

Her--in tears, shrinking away from touch, shivering.

Him--slumped, slurring his way through another, incoherent.

She really wishes he wouldn’t drink so much, but what can she do.

He really wishes she would just talk to him, but it’s not as if he would know what to do.

But they are together, and that seems to be all that really matters.

* * *

She woke early one morning to the sound of him vomiting in the ‘fresher. Muzzily, she thought back to the night before--his long-delayed return from Radnor, a late debriefing, exhaustion, an agreement to adjourn. He’d been there, all hard lines and shadows, eyes sharp. They’d fallen asleep together.

She waited for him to stagger back to bed.

When he didn’t, and no further sounds greeted her ears, she sat up, a little resigned and a little concerned, wrapped herself in an old jumper of his, and slowly crept to the ‘fresher.

The door was open. He always left it open, if even a crack, when he woke in the night. She’d demanded he’d do so after he’d passed out on the floor once behind a locked door and she’d had to frantically blast it open and slap him back to consciousness.

She tapped lightly on the doorframe.

“Cassian,” she said, hovering just out of sight for the sake of his infernal pride.

She heard him stir--good, so not dead, then--and cough wetly, from somewhere deep in his chest. That made up her mind, and she pushed her way into the room.

“S’rry,” he slurred, seeing her approach like a looming stormfront, “’M fine. Go back t’ sleep.”

She crouched before him, pressing a hand to his forehead, knowing that he craved touch as much as she feared it. He closed his eyes, leaning into her hand weakly. She saw that he was shivering, teeth chattering, curled into himself, and realized this was something else.

She sat next to him and tugged off his jumper, draping it across his shoulders.

He coughed again, and she watched the fine bones beneath his skin shift and shudder at the strain.

“I can’t carry you,” she said flatly, “You’re going to have to walk back to bed.”

“I think,” he said carefully, thickly, “I should stay here.”

She looked down at him, at her hand in his hair, at the weariness that hung in the air between them.

“I could--”

“-- _No._ ” He forced his eyes open, and some part of her was vaguely relieved that this was one hard line that remained.

He’d never told her where it had come from, this fear, this resistance to hypos, but she’d seen the scarring high up on his arm--his right arm--and hadn’t needed to ask.

But still, she had to try.

“It’ll help,” she said, standing and already halfway to the cabinet, “Just something for the nausea.”

He clawed himself upright and vomited again. She smelled blood.

“That’s it,” she said, “I’m comming medbay.”

He turned to her in flushed betrayal. She ignored him and swept back into their room for her comlink, raising the lights so she could see.

That deed done, she returned to him, medisensor in hand, frowning down at it.

He flinched in the light from the room, and she shut the door behind her, blanketing them in near-dark.

“Kalonia’ll be here in a few minutes,” she informed him.

He exhaled quietly, an aborted groan that brought a faint smile to her face. She finally smacked the medisensor into submission and held it over his face, pressing his arm down when he batted at her ineffectually.

After a moment, the medisensor beeped again, and she blinked down at the findings.

“Well,” she said as the door chimed, “You’re a very sick man, General.”

“No fark,” he slurred.

She smoothed back his hair and said, “That’s probably Kalonia at the door. You want to stay here or you want to rescue your manly pride and crawl your way back to bed?”

He tried. He really did, even making it to his hands and knees before keeling over again, eyes glazed.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

Major Harter Kalonia, wrapped in a scruffy dressing gown, canvas bag slung over her shoulder, looked her up and down when she answered the door.

“What’s he done now?” she asked wearily.

“Something stupid,” she replied, stepping aside, “Probably. He’s in the ’fresher.”

She handed the medisensor to Kalonia so the doctor could read the results.

“Force,” Kalonia said, raising her eyebrows, “That’s impressive.”

Jyn sighed and led the way in.

“Cassian,” she called into the ’fresher, “Kalonia’s here. Be nice.”

Cassian turned weakly towards her again, but she stepped back, shifting in the small space to allow Kalonia room to work.

“Just in from Radnor, aren’t you, General?” Kalonia asked, raising the lights and setting her bag down on the floor.

He flushed, pink and hazily embarrassed, shirtless in his sleep pants.

“Yeah,” Jyn replied for him.

Kalonia took his vitals again with quick, clinical efficiency and reached for her bag.

“There’s a strange virus going ‘round on Radnor,” she said conversationally, shooting Jyn a look and turning so her back blocked Cassian from seeing what she was doing with her hands, which were preparing a hypo.

Jyn took the hint and sidled around her to Cassian, taking his hand. Even half-conscious, he looked up at her suspiciously. She took comfort in knowing he probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

“They’re saying it’s because of that bioplague,” Kalonia continued easily, fingers moving deftly, “From the Clone Wars. It changed things. Mutated things.” She double-checked the dose. “It’s every scientist’s dream come true. And every doctor’s worst nightmare.”

Cassian twisted out of Jyn’s grip suddenly, pressing himself against the wall, eyes wide.

“What’re you doing?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” Jyn said, in the same tone he used when it was her turn to wake up sobbing, “You’re just sick, and we’re trying to help you feel better.”

She felt Kalonia move around behind her.

“No,” Cassian whispered, breath coming short and fast. He struggled to push himself upright.

“ _Cassian_ ,” Jyn said sharply, pressing both hands to his shoulders.

He blinked, hard, as if seeing her for the first time.

“Jyn?” he breathed, disbelieving.

Kalonia took the moment and pounced, jabbing her needle into Cassian’s arm and emptying its contents in one action.

With a small cry, Cassian jerked away again, but too late.

The empty hypo clattered to the floor, and Kalonia snatched it up quickly.

“What--” Cassian rasped, “Why--”

His eyelids fluttered, and he slumped to the side.

Heart heavy, Jyn watched him fight, watched him struggle to keep his eyes open, trembling. When at last he went still, she felt Kalonia briefly squeeze her shoulder as the doctor stood.

“I think we can carry him, between the two of us,” she said.

Jyn turned, looking up.

“You don’t need to take him to medbay?”

Kalonia’s face twisted briefly into a half-smile.

“I don’t think he’d be very happy about that,” she said.

“But would it help?” Jyn pressed.

Kalonia looked at her measuringly.

“In his case,” she replied, snapping her bag shut, “Probably not.”

Between them, they were indeed able to carry Cassian the short distance from the ’fresher to the bed. Jyn, remembering Scarif, found that he weighed almost nothing, feeling the sharp bones of his shoulders pressing against her arms.

Once they had drawn the covers over him, they stood, side-by-side for a moment, watching him sleep.

“I’ll be back to see how he is in the morning,” Kalonia said briskly. She checked her wrist-chrono. “The antiemetic should last for a while, but the sedative’ll wear off in an hour or so. If you need anything, just comm me.”

“Thanks,” Jyn said.

Kalonia looked at her as if to speak, but she closed her mouth instead and, nodding, swept out of the room.

Jyn sank onto the bed and shut off the lights. She rested her head in the hollow of his chest, rising and falling with each breath like the sea.

* * *

Two hours later, they received an urgent message from Travia Chan.

The Imperial fleet was converging on Fest.

Emergency relief requested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/158945810556/alternatively-together-chapter-21-interlude-v).


	22. Forte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An escalation of sorts.

“General!” Private Olathryn called from across the room, “They’re jamming all off-planet communications!”

“Can we still contact our fighters?” Cassian demanded tautly, cycling through all transmission frequencies, fingers pressed to his headset, straining to hear anything, anything at all.

“No, sir,” Sergeant Antilles reported after a moment, “Communications with airborne units has also been jammed.”

Cassian swore to himself.

“Who’s working on this?”

“Mech Groups A and B.”

“Get us back online,” he demanded, “What about the ground troops?”

“Unaffected, sir.”

Thank fark for small miracles.

He kept his eyes fixed on the holomap, at the slowly circling spots of light.

“They know what they’re doing,” he said out of unnecessary necessity, meeting Private Olathryn in the eye, “We’ve drilled this many times.”

Private Olathryn jerked a wide-eyed nod and turned back to his console, typing furiously.

Their drills had involved the occasional complete communications blackout, so there was some truth to his words. It had always been the plan to force the Empire down to the surface, to push them into the thick trees and boggy undergrowth where AT-ATs  and heavy artillery could not reach, where strafing cover fire from the air was impossible without heavy casualties.

But this, unfortunately, was not a drill.

This was the Empire at their doorstep, and the only end goal he had any hope of achieving was a prolonging of the altercation--last long enough and someone might come, last long enough and Luke might be able to find whatever Ben farking Kenobi had thought was so important and live to see another hopeless fight.

He trusted Alcina Ragnos. He trusted L’ulo. He’d trusted him for years to be on Shara’s wing, to force her home when the time came.

His fingers brushed his datapad, which sat forgotten on the table before him. He’d meant to send a message to Jyn--a quick one, from their list of saved stock missives, because they’d made this one promise to each other--but their comms were jammed, and nothing would ever get out.

He watched his fighters circle the fleet. He watched them jumble, watch them dart and tear, shred Imperial formation to shreds, screening light bombers who knocked out shields and repulsors, deadly quick, nearly quick enough to outrun the TIE fighters streaming like clouds across the display.

Not nearly quick enough.

He watched green lights wink out, and the cowardly part of him was glad he wasn’t able to hear it.

This was not a drill.

When the Imperial fleet overwhelmed the planetary shield and made for the surface, it was almost a relief.

He flicked on the open ground channel.

“All troops,” he said with stark black humor, “Brace for impact.”

* * *

Luke scowled at the tree. Pres looked at the ground.

“There’s something down there,” he said.

“I _know_ ,” Luke growled.

“No,” Pres said, “There’s something _down there_.”

Luke turned to look at him.

“ _What?_ ”

“Sand,” Pres murmured, sightless eyes closed, “There’s a lot of sand.”

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Luke said, “Sand in the ground.”

“There’s a man,” Pres continued, as if he hadn’t heard, “An angry man. With the Emperor.”

Luke and Shara both snapped their heads around again.

“The Emperor’s dead, Pres,” Luke said, voice tightening, hand falling to his lightsaber, “He’s dead. Vader killed him.”

“They’re there,” Pres breathed, face scrunched, breathing accelerating, “They’re all there.”

“Pres?”

Alarmed, Shara crouched before the boy, hands outstretched.

“Wait,” Luke commanded, also stepping forward, in front of her, “Who is the other man? The one with the Emperor?”

Pres clenched his hands at his sides.

“Alone,” he whispered, “He’s alone, and he’s angry, and afraid, and he thinks he’s the only one left.”

“Where?” Luke demanded, crouching too, bright eyes dark and distant, “Where are they?”

Shara seized Luke’s arm, jerking him around.

“That’s _enough_ ,” she snapped.

“Sand,” Pres whimpered, swaying, bringing his hands up to his face, “Sand. It’s a desert, far, far away.”

“Please, Pres,” Luke said, voice hard-edged with softness, “Please, I need to know where.”

“ _Luke!_ ” Shara shouted, “ _Let me go!_ ”

“Where, Pres?” Luke demanded, “Where is this place?”

“It wasn’t always desert,” Pres sobbed, “There were trees and water and grass, but now everything’s dead and dry. Everything’s _dead!_ ”

His last words were a shout of pain, and Shara lunged forward as he crumpled, shoving Luke aside.

Behind them, Poe started crying again.

“It’s okay,” Shara murmured, holding Pres tightly to her chest, brushing away his tears, smoothing back his sweaty hair, “It’s okay. I’m sorry. Just rest. Just rest.”

Pres shivered in her arms.

“Everything’s dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Shara breathed into his ear, “I’m so sorry.”

Beside her, Luke lurched to his feet.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

* * *

Conder Kyl had met General Leia before.

She’d hired him, just months ago in the aftermath of the attack on Chandrila, and they’d met in person just once in her private offices at the Senate. He’d brought her information on Kashyyyk, and he’d felt her eyes on him long after he’d declined her offer of pay and quietly returned to his work.

Sinjir, on the other hand.

Sinjir Rath Velus, former Imperial loyalty officer and of generally questionable morals, was Leia Organa’s _friend_.

Conder hung back in the conference room aboard the _Tantive III_ as the remaining command core of the Camp Sardo landing party, fifty shades of bloody and dishevelled, traipsed in. He sagged the wall and crossed his arms across his aching chest, watching Han and Sinjir slouch their way forward.

General Leia, at the very front of the room, looked somewhere between murder and relief as Han cleared his throat loudly. Sinjir looked over the shoulder of his creased Imperial uniform, scanning the gathered faces. Their eyes met for a long moment, and Sinjir pressed his lips together, hand tightening convulsively at his side. Conder dipped his chin, and Sinjir turned back around to face General Leia, who stood serenely at the head of the round table, hands clasped loosely in front of her.

“Han,” she said, dispelling all sense of rigid formality. _Not General anymore_ , Conder remembered. “Report.”

Conder watched Han stand a little straighter, still slouching, but with an air of tense anticipation.

“We hit heavy fire on the descent,” he said, voice tight, “Lost a dozen transports just landing, which left us short.” Conder heard just the shadow of bitter resignation run beneath his casual tone. “I sent half the gang with Kes to the hangar and took the rest to the command compound to disable the inhibitor chips, where we ran into _this_ guy--” Han jabbed a finger at Sinjir, “--and his slicer friend.”

Leia turned to Sinjir, and though the ex-smuggler’s back was to him, Conder could just _feel_ the way Han’s eyes followed her.

“Sinjir,” Leia said evenly, eyebrows raised, “I was unaware you’d joined the Pathfinders.”

General Leia--extra dry, with a twist of spice.

Sinjir shrugged lopsidedly, and Han’s glare turned to him instead.

“I submitted a request for extended leave,” Sinjir said, “It was approved.”

“So you went to Kashyyyk,” Leia said.

“Yes,” Sinjir replied.

Leia’s eyes flickered up over Sinjir’s shoulder, unerringly spotting Conder lurking in the shadows. Conder twitched uneasily.

“After you found Sinjir,” Leia said, turning back to Han, “What happened next?”

Han looked between Sinjir and Leia in confusion.

“Hold on a second,” he said, “You two _know_ each other?”

“Yeah,” Sinjir said.

“You almost _shot_ me!” Han growled.

“Not really,” Sinjir replied, darting a quick, almost playful glance at Leia, “It was just to make sure.”

“Make sure _what?_ That I wasn’t _Imperial?_ That’s _rich_ , coming from you.”

Sinjir shrugged again, but Conder saw how the words stung.

Leia placed her hands on the table. Han muttered something uncharitable under his breath about befriending spies.

“What was that?” Leia asked sweetly.

“We blew the compound,” Han said loudly, “And the control module. Then helped Chewie get all the Wookies to the hangar, where Kes kind of had the situation under control. With all the Wookies, we managed to get half of everyone onto the ‘ships.”

“And where is Kes?”

“Medbay,” Han said shortly, “Got shot in the ass.”

“Oh,” Leia said.

“And shoulder,” Han said, “But who’s counting?”

Leia’s gaze sharpened. They glared at each other again.

Conder was certain he was missing something.

“Anyways,” Sinjir said quickly, “They loaded up the Imperial transports with as many as they could, but we were still left with a lot of Wookies. Thankfully,” he paused significantly, darting a glance at Han--and Conder realized Sinjir was _baiting_ him, “You showed up just in time.”

Leia sighed. Conder was _very_ certain he was missing something.

“I’ve been in contact with the other Imperial transports,” Leia said, straightening again, arms folded, more General than Princess, “They all made it.”

“And the planet?”

Leia pressed her lips together.

“ _Fark_ ,” Han muttered before she could speak, turning away briefly, clutching his hair in a universal gesture of frustration.

“There’s no way for us to engage them as yet,” Leia said.

“What, they’re still _there?_ ”

“They’re continuing the bombardment, yes.”

“But _why?_ ” Han exclaimed, “There’s no one left on it!”

Leia sighed again.

“Because the Empire knows just as well as you do how greatly the Wookies value their planet. It’s a part of their identity.”

Han pounded a fist on the table.

“We have to be able to do _something_ ,” he spat, “We can’t just let them burn a planet to the ground!”

“We’re carrying five hundred Wookies who are now, under galactic law, considered refugees,” Leia returned sharply, “You’ve started all this trouble to free them from the Empire, and now you want to turn around and put them right back in harm’s way?”

“‘ _All this trouble_ ,’” Han snarled, “Well, I’m sorry, _Your Highness_ \--”

“--Really?” Sinjir broke in, hands braced against the table, “You two are going to do this _now?_ ” Han blinked at him. Leia looked away, briefly, faint color to her cheeks. “Because if you are, I’m kicking everyone out of here before we end up with more casualties.” Without waiting for a response, he turned again to the rest of the room. “Everyone,” he said sharply, “ _Dismissed_.”

The room emptied quickly. Conder remained where he was, hands dropping uncertainly to his pockets.

“I’m taking Con to medbay,” Sinjir said shortly, “He’s spent the last two weeks under Imperial interrogation, and he doesn’t need to deal with whatever the _fark_ is going on between you two this time.” He paused, voice hard. “Let us know when you’ve finally got your _shaab_ together.”

Conder blinked, and in what felt like a moment, Sinjir was before him, dark eyes worried, hand gripping his arm.

“Hey,” he was saying, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Conder replied, blinking away light-headedness.

“Come on,” Sinjir said, grabbing him around the waist, slinging an arm across his narrow shoulders, and hauling them both out into the hall.

“I’m fine,” Conder protested, staggering slightly.

“Fark,” Sinjir muttered, partially muffled by Conder’s armpit, “ _Fark_.”

“Not dead,” Conder said, “Very alive.”

Sinjir let go of him and spun so quickly that Conder stumbled.

“This isn’t funny,” Sinjir hissed, fisting his hands in the front of Conder’s tattered uniform and pressing him flat against a wall, “They would’ve killed you.”

Conder looked down at him. Sinjir knew. Sinjir always knew what the Empire would have done.

“I know,” he said quietly.

Sinjir stared up at him with naked intensity, long lashes trembling. He reached a hand up slowly to cup Conder’s cheek.

“Fark,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Conder said, smiling crookedly.

Sinjir dropped his head to Conder’s chest, a rare, open expression of affection. Conder glanced down the hall. They were alone.

He wrapped his hands around Sinjir and pulled him closer.

“I knew you’d come,” Conder whispered, “Even though I didn’t want you to.”

“Shut up,” Sinjir replied.

“I thought about you.”

“Shut up.”

“I know you missed me too.”

“Shut _up_.”

Leaning into this man, Conder closed his eyes and breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone spot the Chirrut reference?
> 
> This chapter's (vaguely important, possibly about Luke) notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/159018256196/alternatively-together-chapter-22-forte).


	23. Verismo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke reaches out. Han and Leia shout a little more at each other.

“Jakku,” Luke said to himself, hand fisted in his hair, “It’s Jakku. Of course it’s Jakku.”

In Shara’s arms, Pres shivered.

“What the _fark_ is wrong with you!?” Shara shouted at Luke.

Luke ignored her, snatching his comlink from his belt.

“Cassian,” he said quickly, “Cassian, can you hear me?”

Wild static.

Shara bowed her head and pulled Poe to her side, doing her best to comfort the two little boys.

“Cassia--”

“--Luke,” Cassian’s voice crackled tersely, “You need to get off-planet.”

“Jakku,” Luke blurted, “The Imperial Remnant’s on Jakku. Their headquarters, I mean. You need to get word out.”

Low murmuring, unintelligible.

“They’re jamming our off-planet comms,” Cassian said, and even through the comlink, his voice was strained, “We can’t send or receive anything.”

“ _What?_ ” Luke said, wheeling back towards the Force-sensitive tree, “You have to redirect the fleet to Jakku. There can’t be much of a garrison left there if half the Imperial fleet is here and the other half is at Kashyyyk. This is our _chance_.”

Cassian barked out a harsh laugh.

“The only chance I want is a chance at getting as many people out of here as I can,” he growled, “The moment you’re in hyperspace, I’m giving the order to evacuate.” He sucked in a breath--another burst of static. “They’ve breached the shields.”

Luke bit his lip.

“There has to be some way--”

“No, Luke,” Cassian snapped, “There’s no way we can hold them off. Have you found whatever it is Ben had you looking for?”

“Yeah, we found the city. Kind of,” Luke replied, glancing down at the Force-sensitive tree. Its leaves shimmered and shivered. “It’s right under your house, I think.”

A pause.

“‘ _We?’_ ” Cassian demanded, “Who’s with you?”

Luke hesitated. Shara snatched the comlink out of his hand.

“I’m here,” she said, “With the boys.”

A sharp pop, hiss.

“Sorry--” Cassian’s voice garbled, said, “--repeat that?”

“Cassian, it’s me,” Shara said, tensing.

“ _Shara!?_ ”

“I have the boys.”

A sharp rush of static.

“The _fark!?_ You--”

The transmission fizzled again. Distantly, a rumble.

Shara waited a moment.

“Cassian?” she demanded, “Cassian, can you hear me?”

“--breached----need to-- _fark_ , _GET OUT!_ ”

“ _Cassian!_ ”

Pres whimpered, clutching her shirt.

“ _Cassian_ ,” Shara demanded, “Cassian, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

Slowly, she looked up at Luke, who swayed on his feet. He reached out blindly, grasping the slender trunk of the Force-sensitive tree for support.

“They’re here,” Pres whispered.

Luke closed his eyes and reached out across space.

“Help,” he breathed.

* * *

Jyn was passing the closed conference room door in the process of hauling Kes from the medbay back to their temporary quarters on the _Tantive III_ when she heard Han shout. It wasn’t his average shouting-at-Leia shout. Very real fear laced his voice, and Jyn almost dropped Kes from the shock of it.

“Oh great,” Kes slurred, drugging to the gills, “What now?”

Jyn didn’t respond, yanking him to the conference door and smacking it open.

It was empty.

Then--

“Leia, come _on!_ ” Han shouted, panic in his voice, and Jyn realized they were on the floor behind the conference table.

She set Kes down on the floor and sprinted around to them, blaster drawn.

Leia was sprawled on the ground, eyes closed, Han’s hands gripping her shoulders, his face inches from hers.

“What’s going on?” Jyn demanded, sweeping the room.

“I don’t know,” Han snapped, eyes fixed on Leia, who remained still, limp in his arms, “She just…” Han struggled for words, “ _dropped_.”

“I’ll comm medbay,” Jyn said, snatching up her comlink.

Leia stirred.

“Jakku,” she breathed, eyes moving behind closed lids.

Jyn paused, crouching at her side.

“Leia?” Han asked urgently, eyes wide, desperate.

Leia opened her eyes. And winced.

“Fark,” she rasped.

“Yeah,” Han said, smiling uncertainly, “Yeah. Fark.  _Fark_ ." He sounded a little hysterical. "  _Fark_ .”

And just like that, the anger was back.

“What the _fark_ was that?” he snarled at no one in particular, bracing his hands on her shoulders to keep her from getting up.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” Leia said drily, smacking him away.

Jyn eyed her warily.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Leia insisted, wriggling away and sitting up. She took a deep breath, leaning back against the conference table. “So _that’s_ what it feels like.”

“What?” Han spat, hovering.

“The Force, you idiot,” Leia said wearily, closing her eyes and massaging her temples, “Like a hydrospanner to the back of the skull.”

“Oh,” Han said, sitting back. He chewed his lip, worry not quite masked by scorn. “Okay.”

“It was Luke,” Leia continued, swaying unsteadily to her feet. Han wrapped a casual arm around her waist. Jyn stood too, hand still on her comlink, uncertain. “He said the Imperial Remnant’s on Jakku.”

“Jakku?” Han’s eyebrows shot up, “The fark are they doing on Jakku?”

“The fark were we doing on Hoth?” Leia replied, leaning into him only slightly.

Han looked down at her. Rested his chin on the top of her head.

Jyn turned away. Kes was asleep--or passed out--against the wall, face slack.

“We should get back to Yavin 4,” she said, “They can’t hold out long on reserves.”

“Or we could go to Jakku,” Han said, “It’ll be faster.”

Jyn frowned.

“Jakku’s all the way across the farking galaxy,” she said.

“I didn’t say it was closer,” Han corrected, a gleam in his eye, “I said it was faster. If we hit Jakku, they won’t have enough time to get the rest of their ‘fleet back for at least a few hours. It’ll be more than enough time for us.”

“But Yavin--” Jyn broke off.

In the hollow of her throat, the kyber crystal burned. She snatched it out from under her shirt, staring at it in betrayal.

 _Trust the Force_ , her mother said.

“Cassian’ll be able to hold out,” Han said, “There’s a ‘fleet from Corellia on its way.”

Jyn narrowed her eyes at him.

“I might have had something to do with that,” Han said, shrugging, “They weren’t fast enough to get to Contruum in time, so I sent them to Yavin 4.”

Leia looked up at him.

“Well,” she said, “General Solo.”

“You’re sure the Imperial base is on Jakku?” Jyn said uneasily.

 _Trust the Force, Jyn_.

“I am,” Leia replied, dark eyes both hard and reassuring.

 _Trust the Force_.

Jyn thought about Cassian, about the look he’d had in his eyes when they’d said their goodbyes. It was the same.

He would be fine. He would be fine. The Force willed it.

She felt the heat of the kyber crystal in the palm of her hand.

The Force willed it.

Jyn took a breath. They would return to each other.

The Force willed it.

“Alright,” she said, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's (very brief) notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/159169617551/alternatively-together-chapter-23-verismo).


	24. Cadenza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, on Yavin 4...

Cassian’s back throbbed.

Something, someone, some _force_ had thrown him to the ground as the first plasma shells had detonated on the roof of the palace, slamming his skull against the base of the holodisplay.

In the darkness, he pushed himself unsteadily to his hands and knees, ears ringing, steel floor swaying beneath him.

A hand on his shoulder--he jerked away, uncoordinated, falling heavily to his side, striking his head on the ground again.

They’d failed. The fighters had failed.

Of course they had. There hadn’t been nearly enough of them.

They were probably all dead.

Someone hauled him to his feet. A shadow loomed before him.

 _Jakku,_ a voice said in the back of his mind.

He might have spoken. He might have groaned.

He could hear nothing, see nothing.

A hand gripped his, slung it over hard, narrow shoulders.

His feet refused to walk, refused to move. Refused to feel. He fell.

It was dark. In the center of an ancient palace built to worship the light, it was dark.

He reached out.

* * *

“Help,” Pres whimpered.

Luke looked back at him, cradled in Shara’s lap. His hands tightened on the controls as they streaked back to the palace. Smoke clouded the horizon.

“Help,” Pres repeated feverishly, voice small, eyes closed.

“What’s happening?” Shara demanded.

“I think they’ve hit the palace,” Luke said, looking vaguely ill himself.

_Already?_

“Cassian,” Pres whispered.

Shara smoothed back his hair and looked down into this familiar, unfamiliar face.

Around them, the walls of the airspeeder shuddered and moaned as they tore across the sky faster than what the laws of physics could possibly allow. Poe clung to her arm, small hands overflowing with fear.

 _They’re going to Jakku_ , Luke had said, _We need to protect the city._

 _We need help Cassian,_ Shara had snapped.

He hadn’t replied.

They dropped down to the skim the tops of the Massassi trees as the palace loomed into view.

Shara bit back a curse. That was a direct hit, right there, right in the heart of the palace, which billowed smoke and flame.

“Shara,” Luke said grimly, “I need you to take the con.”

Shara carefully slid out from under Pres, tucking the boy back against the seat, and crawled into the co-pilot’s seat.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“The hangar’s still standing,” Luke replied, unbuckling his crash harness, “My X-wing’s in there.”

Shara glanced at him.

“Just take us down right outside the main entrance,” Luke ordered, face set, “I’ll make a run for it, and you circle around for evacuees to take to the secondary ziggurat.”

“Got it,” Shara replied tightly. This was the Luke she remembered. The General Skywalker she trusted.

Three Imperial Star Destroyers loomed in the sky, unnaturally still, unnaturally pale against the blue sky. Gritting her teeth, Shara brought them sharply out from the cover of the treeline, streaking across the broad, grassy clearing to the palace. The airspeeder was no A-wing, gathering speed sluggishly, and she silently urged it on faster, faster.

They’d been spotted.

Two TIE fighters peeled away from their formation and tore towards them, cannons shrieking.

Shara fumbled the high-pressure hydraulic brake, downshifting rapidly and neatly cornering the palace, braking again as the hangar approached.

“No, keep going!” Luke shouted, clambering for the rear hatch, buckling Poe and Pres into a crash harness together as he went, “Don’t brake!”

 _Jedi_ , Shara thought, releasing the brake and shifting rapidly back up.

“Bank on my count!” Luke shouted. He pulled the emergency lever, yanking the hatch open. An alarm shrieked, drowned out by roaring wind. “Three. Two. One! _Now!_ ”

Shara yanked the steering yoke to the side, maintaining momentum but spilling speed as Luke leapt out of the rear hatch, gesturing behind him in mid-air to slam it shut again. She pulled the airspeeder into a tight roll, watching one of the TIE fighters streak by overhead and slam into the side of the palace. The other wheeled away after Luke.

She dropped them down low, hugging the ground, circling to the rear of the palace to the base’s emergency rendezvous point.

“Base One,” she said into the ship’s comms, “Base One, this is--” she hesitated, “--this is Shara Bey, en route to emergency rendezvous. Is anyone out there?”

Static.

“Base One,” she repeated, dropping more speed as they approached, sinking into dust and smoke, “Base One, this is a friendly airspeeder approaching the emergency rendezvous. Do you copy?”

Nothing.

She left the channel open anyways.

As they approached the rendezvous, she spotted two men immediately. Heaving the speeder to a halt, she flashed her lights, cutting through the dust. One of them, supporting another at his side, turned to the speeder, fumbling with his blaster.

“Fark,” Shara snarled, flashing her lights again. She popped open her viewport and shouted, “Get in here, you idiots!”

The man--very young--tucked his blaster away at the command in her voice and staggered towards her.

“Fark,” Shara breathed, recognizing him--both of them. She scrambled for the door controls, smacking them open.

Dust and smoke filled the speeder, and Poe, trembling, bit his lip and swallowed his tears.

The two men staggered in, and Shara smacked the door shut again, engaging the internal air filters as she pulled away into the murky sky.

“Cassian?” she called over her shoulder.

“He hit his head, ma’am,” Private Olathryn said, narrow face soot-streaked, strained.

“How long’s he been unconscious?” Shara demanded.

“I-I don’t know, ma’am,” Private Olathryn replied, “He’s been in and out since we were hit--maybe about ten minutes ago.”

Pres opened his eyes.

“Faster,” he said, “You need to go faster.”

Everyone turned to him.

Grimly, Shara opened up the throttle, engaging the external proximity sensors to help her navigate through the thick smoke.

“I’m taking you to the secondary ziggurat,” she said, “That’s still in operation, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Private Olathryn replied.

On the floor, Cassian groaned.

“Cassian?” Shara called.

Pres wriggled out of the crash harness to his side.

Cassian blinked, pressing a hand to the makeshift bandage around his head.

“Careful, sir,” Private Olathryn said, “You’re still bleeding.”

Cassian coughed from deep in his chest, curling onto his side.

Pres touched a hand to his shoulder.

“What--” Cassian rasped, looking up into his face, “Why--”

“I wasn’t going to leave our farking _kids_ behind,” Shara shouted with just a hint of hysteria because she was flying two children through an active warzone, the Imperial fleet hot on their heels.

“Shara,” Cassian moaned, clenching his eyes shut, “Shara, the--”

A plasma bolt clipped the undercarriage, and they tumbled through the air. Cassian lurched up to catch Pres around the waist, clutching the boy tightly to his chest to keep him from falling.

“ _Fark_ ,” Shara swore, tugging them sharply up, “I can’t see a farking thing!”

“There’re at least two just off your six, ma’am,“ Private Olathryn said, peering through the rear viewport, “TIE fighters.”

Shara swallowed another curse.

“Hang on,” she snarled, opening the throttle. Never, _ever_ in her life had she ever imagined she’d have to outfly a TIE fighter in an airspeeder from the Clone Wars.

Behind her, Cassian snatched Poe down from the seat and pressed him down to the floor beside Pres, bracing himself over them.

Private Olathryn watched him with wide, wide eyes.

Another plasma bolt shrieked by inches from the starboard engine.

Shara gritted her teeth, pulling them into another tight roll, throttle on full.

“They’re gaining,” Private Olathryn said, fighting to keep his voice level, “Point off port, two aft.”

Shara yanked them up, up, up into the sky, engines wailing. If she could get them clear of the dust, then maybe someone--

The speeder tumbled, port engine aflame.

 _I’m sorry, Kes,_ she thought, tears hot and angry in her eyes.

The TIE fighters loomed still closer.

 _I’m so sorry_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me.


	25. Mixolydian

“What sort of farking _shortcut_ is this!?” Jyn shouted, clinging to her seat as the ‘ship rumbled and groaned around them

Han grinned at her over his shoulder.

“Trust me, sister,” he yelled, gripping the controls, “You don’t wanna know.”

“I think I deserve to know if we’re going to be annihilated in the cold farking vacuum of farking hyperspace!”

Han’s grin broadened.

“I made the Kessel Run in--”

“ _\--under twelve parsecs, yes, we farking know!”_ Leia shouted, seated stubbornly behind them because she wasn’t about to let Han Solo fly her father’s ship unattended.

Han rolled his eyes and turned back to the forward viewscreen. The _Tantive III_ ’s bridge crew watched him with a curious mix of abject horror and morbid fascination.

“Drop on my count,” Han said into the ‘fleetwide comm.

Jyn tensed.

Han clenched his jaw, eyes fixed on the navicomp display.

“Three… Two… One… _Drop!_ ”

With a sickening lurch, they dropped back into realspace. Jyn braced herself against the wall, crash harness digging into her shoulders.

“Heading 195.60.333.87,” Han snapped.

“Heading 195.60.333.87, sir!” the chief nav officer repeated, swiftly keying in the coordinates for the next jump.

Han eyed the hyperdrive cooldown timer. The _Tantive III_ had been designed for many things, but traveling by rapid micro-hyperjumps was not one of them.

“And--” he said, watching the numbers dial down, millisecond by millesecond, “--Now!”

With another sickening lurch, the stars blurred around them again, and they re-entered hyperspace.

“This’ll take us straight to their doorstep,” Han said, leaning back and spinning around in his commandeered chair, linking his hands behind his head with a smug grin.

Leia thought the dried gorak she’d consumed for lunch might be in danger of making a reappearance.

“You’re insane,” she rasped, “You’re farking _insane_.”

Han bowed in his seat.

“Why, thank you, Princess,” he said.

* * *

Cassian felt Pres reach out and wrap his arms around Poe. His head pounded as Shara twisted them desperately back down to the surface, the shrill whine of their only functioning engine rattling deep in his bones. He pressed the two boys tighter to the floor, arms spread.

He would not.

He would not.

He would die before he lost another son.

He would die if he lost another son.

At the viewport, Private Olathryn suddenly called out, “Two fighters approaching three points off starboard!” Excitement laced his voice. “Not Imperial!”

“About farking time!” Shara snarled, jerking them around a massive sandstone fragment from the crumbled roof of the palace.

Cassian glanced up out the viewport just in time to catch a sleek fighter, clearly Corellian in make, flash by.

“Corellian!” he shouted to Shara, “Those are Corellian fighters!”

Even as he spoke, one of the two TIE fighters behind them burst into flame, gunned down by one of the Corellian fighters. The force of the blast launched them high into the air again, and Shara wrestled with the controls, only just managing to keep them upright.

“ _Fark!_ ” she shouted into the first open comm channel she found, “This isn’t a farking _‘ship!_ It’s a _speeder!_ Watch your _karking_ fire!”

They dropped sickeningly back down to the ground. She engaged the emergency repulsors, but even then, the speeder’s abused undercarriage scraped along the ground with a horrendous screech.

The second TIE fighter exploded above them, raining flaming debris.

Shara cycled to the next open comm channel.

“ _Are you idiots blind or just deaf!?_ ” she roared, “ _There are friendlies in the speeder!_ ”

A crackle through the shipwide comm.

“ _Shara?_ ” drawled a deep voice, Corellian accent thick and heavy, “Shara Bey?”

“Yeah,” Shara shot back, “Who the fark are you guys?”

A laugh.

“I thought you retired!”

“I _did_ ,” Shara spat, bringing them cautiously back up out of the debris field, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m flying a _speeder_.”

“Yeah, I thought I recognized that hook roll you pulled back there.”

Shara scowled, possessed of exactly no patience.

“Do I _know_ you?” she snarled.

Another laugh.

“Sorry,” the Corellian pilot said, “It’s BoShek.”

“Ah fark,” Shara said, peering up as the two fighters circled overhead, “Your aim hasn’t gotten any better.”

BoShek laughed again.

“Hey, at least I didn’t hit _you_.”

“Yeah, _thanks_.” Shara slowly coaxed the speeder back up to cruising altitude, above the choking cloud of dust and smoke. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Han sent us,” BoShek replied. One of the fighters waggled its wings. Shara sighed. “We couldn’t get to Kashyyyk in time, so we came here instead. Looks like you need our help.”

Shara’s heart leapt.

“How many of you are there?” she asked.

“The whole ‘fleet’s here. Han can be pretty farking persuasive,” BoShek said, peeling off from his wingmate and wheeling around below them, “Fark. You’re pretty banged up. Where you guys headed?”

Shara absently silenced the shrilling alarms, hope rising.

“Secondary ziggurat,” she replied, “About twenty clicks away.”

BoShek made a disparaging sound in the back of his throat.

“You’re pissing fuel,” he said, “Probably’d make it maybe five before you’re out.”

“Fark,” Shara muttered, eyeing the powerless center console, “I’ve lost main power too.”

“Shara Bey,” BoShek said fondly, rising up to fly with them in parallel, “Only you would try to outfly a TIE fighter in a speeder. How many do you have aboard? I can fit maybe two.”

“I’ve got five,” Shara replied, circling back to the surface, “Three adults, two kids.”

A pause.

“Fark, Shara,” BoShek said heavily.

“ _Yeah_.”

“Fark, I’m sorry.” BoShek said, genuinely apologetic, “If I’d known--” he broke off, sighed. “Irenez can take the rest of of you. We’re far enough out now that we should be good to land for a little. I’ll follow you down.”

“Copy that,” Shara said drily, glancing back over her shoulder into the rear seat.

Cassian was propped up against the seat, Pres and Poe balanced in his lap, Private Olathryn carefully checking the bandage around his head.

“Did he say ‘Irenez’?” he asked, strangled.

“I think so,” Shara replied, creaking them to as soft a landing as she could manage, “Why, do you know him?”

“Her,” Cassian said, batting Private Olathryn away and standing carefully, Poe balanced against a hip, Pres’s hand clutched in his.

Shara eyed him, unbuckling her harness and punching open the door controls, which were, miraculously, still functional.

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” she said bluntly, clambering back to him and taking Poe into her arms.

“She was Bel Iblis’s chief advisor,” Cassian shortly, limping unsteadily for the open access hatch and dropping down to the ground, reaching back and lifting Pres down with him. “Okay?” he murmured to the boy. Pres nodded, squeezing his hand tightly, clouded eyes wide and uncertain. “Brave boy,” Cassian murmured.

He turned and helped Shara and Poe down. Private Olathryn clambered out after them, all thin limbs and confusion.

The two Corellian fighters settled in the dust across from them. The sun caught the transparisteel canopies as they slid open, and one shapeless figure from each hopped out to the ground.

“Shara!” the closer figure shouted, Corellian flightsuit rumpled, dark hair wild.

Shara snorted.

“That’s him, alright,” she muttered, nodding at Cassian, “BoShek. He’s an old friend of Han’s.”

“Smuggler?” Cassian asked, following her.

“Ex,” Shara replied, “Or so he says.”

“Fark,” BoShek said as they approached, “It’s good to see you in one piece.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Shara said tartly.

“Sorry,” BoShek repeated sheepishly, dark eyes darting from Poe to Pres and back to her again.

“My son,” Shara said, indicating Poe, who clung tightly to her, face pressed into her neck, “Poe.” She jerked her chin at Cassian next. “General Andor, commander-in-chief of Yavin 4, and his--” she hesitated only briefly, “--son, Prestor. And that's Private Olathryn, Comms.”

“Oh,” BoShek said, eyes wide, “Sir.” He saluted Cassian awkwardly in a half-aborted movement that turned into a small wave. Clearing his throat, he gestured to the grey-haired woman who approached. “This is Irenez,” he said, “My wingmate. And kind of our commander.” He shrugged a little self-consciously. “We're kind of a mess right now.”

Cassian turned sharply. Beside him, Pres tensed.

“Hello,” Irenez said, helmet tucked neatly under her arm. Her bright eyes came to rest on Cassian, who stared back, chin raised.

“Thanks for the help back there,” Shara said to both of them, “You helped us out of a tight spot.”

“Yeah, of course,” BoShek said, looking between Irenez and Cassian, the tension between the two palpable, “We should probably get going?”

“Yeah,” Shara replied quickly. “Cassian, why don’t you take Pres and go with BoShek? We’ll squeeze in with Irenez.”

“Oh no,” Cassian said tightly, gaze unwavering, “You three go with BoShek. Irenez and I have some catching up to do.”

“Really,” Shara said flatly, patience meter returning immediately to zero, “Because you two look like you’re going to tear each other’s heads off. I’d rather that didn’t happen mid-air.”

“Trust me,” Irenez said, steel in her voice, “I can handle myself.”

“Great,” Shara muttered, “ _Great_.” She waved at BoShek’s fighter, “Lead on.”

BoShek shot her a look as he turned and followed her. Shara shook her head.

Private Olathryn trailed behind them, feeling, once again, very much out of his depth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/159248418211/alternatively-together-chapter-25-mixolydian).


	26. Obbligato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia and Han finally talk--or shout, Kaytoo admits to something surprising, and Cassian catches up with the latest of the drama from Corellia.

Jakk loomed into view, reminding Leia painfully of Tatooine. Another Outer Rim desert planet home to some unsavory characters.

She jammed her blaster into its holster with a little more force than necessary. Han glanced at her.

“Any bad feelings, Princess?” he said, only half-joking.

“Only when I’m around you,” she replied tartly, aggressively straightening her vest.

Han looked away quickly, but not before she saw the hurt flash across his face. She took a breath.

“Sorry,” she said stiffly.

Han shrugged and said nothing, rummaging around in his rucksack for something--or nothing, she thought.

“We need to talk,” she said finally.

Han stood and looked down at her, inscrutable. She hated that look.

“Now?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, “Now.”

A faint hint of panic flared in his eyes, and Leia would have laughed if she hadn’t felt so much like crying. She activated the door lock behind her and stood facing him, chin raised.

Han said nothing, hands on his hips, slouching rebelliously.

“Well?” Leia demanded.

“Well _what?_ ” he spat.

“You _left_ ,” Leia snapped incredulously.

“I had to help Chewie,” Han returned, “It was our only shot.”

“Yeah, well look how well _that_ turned out.”

She really wished she hadn’t said that.

Han stepped backwards, not forwards, clenching his jaw.

“Chewie’s family,” he said tightly.

“Han,” Leia said, “ _I’m pregnant with your child_.”

Han roughly ran a hand down his face.

“Yeah,” he said.

“ _Yeah!?_ ” Leia shouted, “That’s all you’re going to say!?”

Han stepped forward.

“What do you _want_ me to say?” he returned hotly, “‘This is the best news ever’?” He took another step. “‘I’ve always wanted to be a dad!’” And another. “‘I'm so _excited!’?_ ” Leia craned her neck back to look up at him. “Well,” Han said thickly, “It’s not. I never wanted to be a dad. We’re in the middle of a farking _galactic war_.” He stared her down. “You might not know what it’s like to grow up in the middle of a war, but _I do_.”

Leia forced back her temper, fighting to keep her voice even.

“So what, then?” she said, “You obviously don’t want this baby, but I sure as _fark_ am not--”

“-- _No_ ,” Han said sharply, eyes widening. He shook his head. “No, _fark_. That’s not what I meant.”

“What?”

“I--” Han looked away, searching for words. “I don’t mean that I don’t want the kid.” He raked a hand back through his hair. “I just don’t know how--” he broke off again. “I don’t know,” he said helplessly.

“ _Well,”_ Leia shouted, _“figure it out!_ ”

“ _I don’t know anything about being a dad!_ ” Han roared, “I didn’t even _know_ my own dad! How am I supposed to be one to...to--” he gestured at Leia, down in the vague direction of her stomach, then back at her face again, “--to _this!?_ I’d just screw everything up!” His eyes flashed. “That’s what you keep telling me, isn’t it? That that’s all I’m good at? Screwing things up?”

“ _That’s because you’re always just too farking scared to try!_ ”

Han stiffened, bent over her, his breath warm on her face. He swallowed, throat bobbing.

“Why do you always expect the worst of yourself?” Leia demanded, “You only act like you don’t care because you’re afraid to admit you care too much.”

“Caring too much is a dangerous thing,” Han said, roughly, “It gets people killed.”

“So what?” Leia said, gripping his wrist, “I’d rather die because someone cared about me too much than because no one could bother to enough.”

Han looked at her, painfully rare emotion naked on his face.

“Han,” Leia said quietly, “I had the two best parents in the world, and I _still_ don’t know what I’m doing.”

He smiled crookedly. She put a hand on his chest.

“Leia,” he said, “I’m screwed up. I’m really screwed up.”

“You really think I needed you to tell me that?”

“No,” he said, carefully, carefully wrapping his arms around her.

“Just for future reference,” she murmured into his chest, “It’s never a good idea to run off across the galaxy for _anything_ , even your best friend, the morning after a woman tells you she is pregnant with your child.”

He smiled into her hair.

“Okay,” he said.

* * *

Kes adjusted the headset over his ears, flipping the mic up and away. He pulled a face.

“This feels weird,” he said, “It’s so… bulky."

“Shut up,” Jyn replied, tugging her trouser leg back down over her boots.

“I haven’t run comms in ages,” Kes said.

“Force help us,” Jyn muttered, sweeping her hair out of her eyes.

Kes jabbed experimentally at the display. Jyn smacked his hand away.

“Probably won’t be able to pick anything up from Yavin 4, huh,” he said, ignoring her and returning to the settings.

Jyn hesitated briefly.

“We lost contact with them when we were on Kashyyyk,” she said flatly, “Admiral Ackbar said it looks like the Empire’s jammed all off-world communications.”

Kes looked up at her, shifting carefully in his chair.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he said flatly.

Jyn shook her head.

“I thought Han told you.”

“No,” Kes said tightly, “Han’s been too busy avoiding Leia to pay any attention to, you know, the war.”

“I didn’t get any messages from Cassian,” Jyn said quietly, “So they should be fine.”

“Unless he wasn’t able to get anything out in time,” Kes said darkly, “Fark.”

“Han said the Corellian ‘fleet’s headed their way.”

Kes turned sharply to her again, wincing as the movement jarred his shoulder.

“What?” he said, “Bel Iblis is back?”

Jyn shrugged.

“Fark,” Kes repeated to himself, eyes dark in thought.

Kaytoo strode through the door.

“We’re _waiting_ for you,” he said pointedly.

Jyn shot Kes a look.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine here,” he grumbled, gesturing over his shoulder at the rest of the bridge crew, “ _They_ know what they’re doing, at least.”

“Just stay here, okay?” she said, just to make sure, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“What, like get shot in the ass? Oh wait.”

Jyn rolled her eyes and turned away. Kes watched her go, biting his lip.

“Hey,” he called, “Kay.”

The droid turned, servos whirring.

“Be careful down there,” he said.

Kaytoo tilted his head minutely. A quiet whirr and a click. He straightened slightly.

“I will keep her safe,” he replied.

“For Cassian,” Kes said.

“No,” Kaytoo corrected, turning away, “For her.”

* * *

Pres curled up in his lap, clinging to his shirt.

Cassian pressed his throbbing head back against the headrest, arching his back minutely.

The forest streaked by beneath them.

“Bel Iblis,” he said into his headset, “Sena?”

In the pilot’s seat before him, he saw Irenez shake her head.

“It’s--” her voice crackled in his ears, “It’s complicated.”

“Talk,” he snapped, pain sapping his patience.

“We split,” Irenez replied, “A few weeks ago. I wanted to come back. He’s still mad at Mothma.”

“Why split now?” he demanded sharply, “You were happy enough to leave with him after Endor.”

A long silence that Cassian read with painful familiarity.

“That was the wrong decision,” Irenez said finally, stiffly, “Born of paranoia. If the New Republic is to survive, we’re going to have to find a way to figure things out.”

Figure things out, indeed.

Cassian closed his eyes. Pres wrapped his arms around his neck.

“He let you take the ‘fleet?” he said, “I’m surprised.”

Irenez sighed.

“You know Garm,” she said, relaxing slightly, “It’s just his pride that’s hurt. I don’t think he really has anything against Chancellor Mothma, and he has plenty to hold against the Empire.”

Cassian said nothing, absently smoothing his hands down Pres’s back, remembering the anguish on the former Senator’s face that day outside the remains of the Treitamma Political Center as he realized his wife and children had been killed in his place.

 _You’re one of us now,_ he’d said, wearing the face of Aach, Bail’s enigmatic messenger for the growing Rebellion, _Now Palpatine has hurt you. Not someone else, but you. Now it’s personal._

“So,” Irenez said, beginning the descent to the secondary ziggurat, well hidden amongst the forest, guided only by Cassian’s coordinates, “I almost couldn’t believe it when I heard your friend introduce you.” She twisted around her seat to look at him, smiling that peculiar smile of hers. “General, is it?”

Cassian sighed, shifting Pres slightly in his arms.

“And a father,” Irenez added, “Who’d’ve known?”

Cassian smiled faintly down at Pres, who, sensing this, nuzzled his neck in wordless affection.

“My days in Intelligence are over, I think,” he replied.

He spoke briefly to the control tower, requesting clearance, which was quickly granted for both fighters.

“Yeah,” Irenez said, settling them down for a smooth landing, “Everyone knows who you are now.” She keyed open the canopy, which depressurized with a long hiss. “That face of yours--it’s hard to forget.”

Cassian watched, stricken, as she dropped down from the cockpit without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/159434771381/alternatively-together-chapter-26-obbligato).


	27. Cadenza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jakku looms in the viewport, and Cassian finds himself surrounded by women, so he takes over babysitting duties.

Sinjir hovered over Conder’s shoulder, breath hot on the slicer’s neck as he eyed the images from the scanners.

“That--” he said, stabbing a finger at a slightly larger amorphous blob.

Conder enlarged the image, pulling up a holo of it and sending it to the holoprojector.

Sinjir turned to look at it, hand still braced on Conder’s shoulder.

“What is it?” Conder asked.

“Can you make it any bigger?” Sinjir asked.

Conder frowned, turning back to his console. Casually, Sinjir turned with him, bringing his other hand around to rest just beside Conder’s.

He watched the fine lines at the corners of Conder’s eyes crinkle softly.

“Here,” Conder said, sending a new image back to the holoprojector, “Try it now.”

Reluctantly, Sinjir crossed the room to the shimmering holo. One step away, he stopped short, eyes wide, fixed on the looming structure before him.

“Oh, _fark,”_ he said, backing away, hands clenched.

“Sinjir?” Conder asked, half-rising from his seat.

“Fark,” Sinjir muttered, pushing a hand through his dark hair and turning for the door, “ _Fark._ ”

* * *

Jakku was a farking _rock,_ Han thought sullenly, staring out the viewport. What was it with desert planets that just spelled disaster? Why couldn’t the farking Imperial Remnant have found some other place to hide? Like Naboo or something. A place with that with trees. Stuff that _grew_ , not just… survived.

Once they’d combined the forces of the Contruum’s fleet not-inconsiderable scanner array, it became painfully obvious that there was some sort of military activity going on down below.

“How did we miss this?” Han had demanded.

“It’s Jakku,” Leia had replied, frustrated, “Who the fark would go to _Jakku?”_

He’d wanted to point out the fact that they’d spent three years on Hoth, but at a warning look from Jyn, he’d shut his mouth.

Now, he stared grimly at the sandy rock below. They were close to breaking atmo, but no one had come to intercept them, no Imperial ships, nothing. He glanced at Leia, and similar unease was written on her face.

“Rax,” she said suddenly, “Gallius Rax.”

“What?” Han said.

“The Imperial Fleet Admiral,” Leia said.

“Yeah, I knew that part.”

“I just remembered. He’s from Jakku.”

Han looked at her.

“Well,” he drawled, “That explains a lot.”

Leia shook her head.

“No,” she said, tension seeping into her voice, “He’s from _Jakku_. How does a guy from Jakku become the _Imperial_ Fleet Admiral?”

“I don’t know,” Han said, puzzled, “Does that really matter?”

“Jakku means nothing to the Empire,” Leia said flatly, “It’s everything they’ve been trying to destroy.”

The doors to the bridge opened suddenly.

The entire bridge crew swiveled as Sinjir stalked in.

“We need to get down there,” he snapped, breathing heavily, “There’s an Observatory on the surface.”

“An observatory,” Han repeated flatly.

“It was one of Palpatine’s contingency plans,” Sinjir said, “In case he died.”

“An Observatory,” Leia said, “On Jakku.”

“Wait,” Han cut in, addressing Sinjir, “What did you say you used to do when you were an Imp?”

Sinjir bristled.

“None of your farking business,” he snarled, turning back to Leia, “Rax is from Jakku.”

“Yeah,” she replied, “I just remembered.”

“This must be it, then,” Sinjir said.

“What must be it?” Han demanded, “What’s an Observatory?”

“No one really knows,” Sinjir said tightly, “But they’re supposed to be full of powerful Sith artifacts.”

“...And let me guess,” Han said, hating Jakku more with each passing second, “These artifacts are capable of destroying entire planets.”

Sinjir said nothing. The look on his face was enough.

“And we’re going down there,” Han said, “Of course we are.”

* * *

Despite the circumstances, the secondary ziggurat felt like home.

Cassian led Pres and Irenez through madly rushing personnel straight to the reconstructed control center, ignoring the mixed looks of fear and curiosity they received along the way. Shara and Poe waited around the central holoprojector. BoShek was nowhere to be seen.

“Report,” Cassian demanded before the doors had closed behind him.

“Corellian forces have engaged the Imperial fleet over Base One, sir,” Private Olathryn piped up from the far side of the room, headset on, wide eyes serious, “Evac teams are still searching the area.”

“Casualties?”

Private Olathryn hesitated.

“Considerable, sir,” he said, “I’m afraid I don’t have anything more specific than that.”

Cassian wearily scratched at the bandage around his forehead, leaning surreptitiously against the holoprojector.

“Everyone,” he called, “This is Commander Irenez.” He pointed at the woman beside him. “She’s in command of the Corellian fleet. Someone get us comsets.”

“Our ground troops have engaged,” Shara said to him in the ensuing shuffle for equipment, “Just north of the palace.” She paused, then added, “In the marsh.”

“Good,” he replied grimly, tugging off his bandage and sliding on the proffered headset.

Irenez turned away in tight conversation with her squadron commanders.

“Cassian,” Shara said, stepping towards him, Poe clinging to her neck.

He shook his head.

 _Not now_.

“Someone find a doctor for this idiot!” Shara shouted, regardless. Cassian glared at her. Shara yanked out a chair from beside a vacant console. “Sit down before you fall down,” she demanded.

Cassian curled his lip.

“I’m retired,” Shara said, “You can’t order me to do anything.”

He sat. Pres clawed his way into his lap.

“ _Skywalker!?”_ Irenez squawked into her comm, “What the fark are you doing up there?”

Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mediate,” he said to Shara, handing her his comset almost desperately, “Please.”

Unsurprisingly, it was Harter Kalonia who elbowed her pointy way to his side, looking at him appraisingly, thoroughly unimpressed, before setting her bag down on the ground.

“General,” she said, “You’re an idiot.”

“I could have you court-martialed for that,” he muttered, flinching as she shone a bright light into his eyes.

“Yeah, but you’d be dead without me.”

Cassian grunted, shifting Pres aside to let her work. She looked down at the boy and smiled.

Pres smiled back.

Cassian shivered.

“How did this happen?” Kalonia demanded, squinting at the wound, “It’s pretty bad.”

“I think it was in the initial blast,” he replied, bending his neck obligingly, “I don’t really remember.”

Kalonia exhaled sharply.

“You _idiot!_ ” Irenez shouted.

Cassian jerked his head up. Shara made a placating gesture. Kalonia grabbed him by the fringe and forced his head back down.

“Ow,” he said.

“Your back,” Kalonia said, more than asked, rummaging around in her bag.

Cassian shrugged.

“It hurts,” Pres said suddenly, “Doesn’t it?”

Cassian looked down at him.

“I can feel it,” Pres said, troubled.

Kalonia looked at Cassian sharply. Cassian ignored her, pulling Pres protectively to his chest.

“Any word on offworld comms!?” he shouted.

“We’re working on that!” Irenez bellowed.

“I’m going to have to take a look,” Kalonia said, taping down a fresh bandage.

“What?”

“At your back. If you were caught in the blast, something could have been knocked out of alignment, and it’d be better to deal with it now rather than later.”

“Now’s not the time,” Cassian grunted

“General--”

“Offworld comms are back up!” Private Olathryn shouted.

Cassian lurched to his feet, Pres in his arms. Kalonia grabbed his shoulder to steady him.

“Get a message to Chandrila!” he replied, “Aurek-Senth-Peth-Two-Three-Wesk!”

“Copy, Aurek-Senth-Peth-Two-Three-Wesk!” Private Olathryn replied.

Emergency communique sent, Cassian relaxed minutely. He knew his datapad had been buried under the remains of the palace. Still, he felt its absence keenly. Shara held out his comset, struggling to soothe a fussy Poe, who reached frantically out for Cassian, tears streaming down his face.

Cassian, Pres in one arm, looked between the comset and his nephew.

He shifted Pres onto his hip and beckoned with his free hand for Poe, pressing a kiss into the boy’s sweaty hair.

“ _Sit_ ,” Kalonia hissed.

Cassian jerked his chin at the comset, dipping his head.

Rolling her eyes, Shara slipped the headphones over his ears. Pres nudged them into place.

“Thank you,” Cassian said quietly, bobbing Poe gently up and down. Shara folded her arms, looking away briefly. “Luke,” he said into the mic, “Report.”

“Thank the Force,” Luke muttered, “You didn’t tell me _Irenez_ was here.”

“I can still hear you, you know,” Irenez snapped.

“Luke,” Cassian repeated. Against his shoulder, Poe quieted, curled into his chest.

“We’ve got two of the Star Destroyers pinned down in atmo,” Luke said, slightly breathless, “The other one made a break for it. I sent Green Squadron and two Corellian bomber squadrons to try and catch it before it can get to hyperspace.”

“Green Squadron?” Cassian said sharply, “Casualties?”

Shara jerked her head up, eyes fixed on him.

A long pause.

“Luke,” Cassian snapped.

“We lost Feral Squadron,” Luke said flatly, “Alcina, Roxos, all of them.”

Cassian clenched his jaw. From across the holoprojector, he felt Irenez’s sympathetic gaze.

Pres clutched his shirt.

“We also--” Luke grunted, exhaling sharply. A sharp shriek of blaster fire sounded in the distance. “--lost Green Eight, Twelve, and Fifteen.”

Cassian sucked in a breath.

“Okay,” he said, “Keep your comm lines open.”

“Yessir,” Luke said grimly.

Cassian muted his mic briefly and turned to Shara.

“Juvo, Marun, and Pory,” he said quietly, searching her face.

White-lipped, she nodded.

Cassian clicked his mic back on, shifting the boys in his arms. He fumbled to reach the channel dial, and Kalonia stepped forward and bodily pressed him back into the chair.

Glaring up at her, he said, “Go bother someone else.”

“There are plenty of other doctors,” Kalonia replied tartly, “Most of us were all already out here for contingency training before the strike. They don’t need another junior officer underfoot.”

Cassian muttered under his breath and reached around Poe to change his transmission frequency.

“Pathfinders,” he snapped, “This is Phoenix One. Report.”

Crackling static. Across the room, he saw Private Olathryn frown and fiddle with the dials before him on the console.

“Phoenix One,” crackled an unfamiliar voice, “This is Jax. No casualties. We’re holding them steady at the marsh.” A short laugh. “They’ve brought farking _AT-ACTs_.”

Cassian blinked, momentarily nonplussed by the familiarity in her voice.

“Copy that,” he said, “Keep us posted. Phoenix out.”

He clicked off his mic again.

“Phoenix, huh?” Shara said, activating the grainy holomap--not recently upgraded by Kaytoo--depicting troop movements.

Cassian grunted.

“Oh,” she said, looking at the holomap and half-laughing, “You’re not going to like this.”

“What?” Cassian demanded, struggling to rise. Kalonia’s hands on his shoulders forced him to remain where he was.

“They’re forcing the Destroyers down over Lake Vidre,” Shara said.

Cassian lurched to his feet.

“ _What?_ ” he spat.

“Yeah.” Shara said, “They’re headed straight for you private little lake and--” she glanced at the rapidly cycling numbers on the projector console, “--losing altitude fast.”

Cassian gently set Pres down, clicking on his mic and cycling back to Luke’s frequency.

“Luke,” he snapped.

“Sorry,” Luke replied quickly, “I know you like the place, but--”

“--I don’t care about that,” Cassian snarled, “Don’t give them a soft landing. Lake Vidre’s too close to Vornez.”

A pause.

“And the Jedi city,” Luke said, “Okay. We’ll--um. Figure something out.”

“And not _into_ Vornez either.”

“Cassian, I’m not a farking nerf. I wouldn’t crash two Star Destroyers into your house.”

“I should hope not,” Cassian bit out, severing the connection. “This farking war,” he muttered.

Pres looked curiously up at him. Cassian smiled apologetically.

“Hey,” Shara said, staring blankly at her datapad, “Kes said they’re on their way to _Jakku?”_

Cassian choked.

“ _What?_ ”

Shara handed him her datapad.

“He sent it several hours ago. They must still be in hyperspace.” She frowned, “It’d take close to ten, twelve hours to get from Kashyyyk to Jakku on a good day.”

Cassian scrolled through the messages.

“What,” he repeated, “With _Leia?”_

“Apparently,” Shara said, watching him carefully, “She came to the rescue.”

Cassian said nothing, looking up at her.

“Do you mind,” he said, “If I--”

“--no,” Shara replied.

Cassian smiled tightly at her, and with one ear monitoring the transmissions, typed out a quick message.

* * *

Jyn was halfway to the surface in a heavily-armored transport shuttle when her datapad pinged.

Kaytoo, in the pilot’s seat, swiveled his head to look at her, white eyes unblinking.

Ignoring him, Jyn pulled out her datapad.

“It’s from Shara,” she said.

“No,” Kaytoo said, turning back to the forward windscreen, “It’s not.”

Jyn raised an eyebrow and opened the message.

“Oh,” she said.

“See?” Kaytoo said, “I told you so.”

Warm relief rushed through her, crushing dread, both of what might have happened and what was to come. The latest message on her datapad consisted of six words, and six words alone.

_Be careful. We’re waiting for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/159510971701/alternatively-together-chapter-27-cadenza).


	28. Accidental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinjir comes up with a plan, and so does Shara. A question is raised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, everyone! It's been a busy week of frantic writing, and the end is in sight.

“Really,” L’ulo said flatly, voice crackling across the comms.

Luke could almost taste the strained disbelief in the Duros’s voice.

“Yeah,” Luke grimaced, pulling up tightly and circling behind a looming TIE fighter, “Sorry.”

“Do you have some other place in mind?” L’ulo gritted out, “We’re running out of time.”

“Um,” Luke said.

“ _ Luke. _ ”

“Sorry,” Luke repeated, twisting his X-wing into a tight roll, “Sorry, I’m thinking.”

“Think  _ faster. _ ”

“Just--” he grunted, squeezing off another shot, “Beyond the lake. We can make it in a few clicks north of the shoreline, right?”

“It’s all forest up there. We’d lose most of them in the trees.”

“Not if we push them hard enough,” Luke replied grimly, swooping under the flaming Star Destroyer, “You’ve never seen one of these things crash before, have you.”

“Not on the surface, no,” L’ulo replied. Luke watched his A-wing weave between the Imperial ship’s disabled turrets, nimbly scanning the large ‘ship’s systems, “This one’s running on emergency power,” he said. He paused briefly. “The other’s totally dead.”

“Great,” Luke muttered, toggling controls to his quad-core plasma cannons, “Let’s see how fast these things can fall.”

* * *

 

“Stay here,” Han demanded.

“Nice try,” Leia snarled, expertly checking the charge on her blaster.

“Leia--”

“--It’s just recon. We’re twenty clicks away from the farking thing.”

“But--”

“-- _ Guys,” _ Sinjir snapped, shoulders rigid, waiting for them to clear the doorway.

Leia pushed her way past Han, dropping down onto soft sand. She almost shuddered.

“ _ Leia _ ,” Han hissed, following and grabbing her shoulder.

She shrugged him off, lying flat on her stomach and pulling out a pair of quadnocs. 

“It just looks like a bunker,” she said to Sinjir, peering through the lenses.

“Yeah,” Sinjir replied uneasily, “Most of it’s underground.”

Han looked at him sharply, suspiciously.

“Don’t start,” Leia muttered to him, passing the quadnocs to Sinjir as he settled into the sand beside her.

“Leia--”

“--I said  _ don’t start. _ ”

Han huffed, eyeing her.

“Yeah,” Sinjir said absently, “Entrance is on the north side. That’s our only way in.”

“Why can’t we just bomb the fark out of this place?” Han demanded, “Half our entire fleet’s just out of their sensor range, and it doesn’t look like they’ve got much going on in terms of shielding.”

“What did I say,” Sinjir said, “About most of it being underground?”

“Their shield generators are underground?” Han replied, eyebrows raised, “That’s got to be a pretty farking big hole. And a lot of interference.”

“Sith,” Sinjir replied flatly, sitting up and returning Leia’s quadnocs.

“Great,” Han said, “They still find ways to screw everything up even when they’re dead.”

Jyn dropped down from the shuttle behind them.

“So,” she asked, “What’s the plan?”

Han eyed her.

“ _ Someone’s _ in a good mood,” he said sourly.

“Yavin 4’s got interplanetary comms back up,” Jyn replied, “Shara said they’ve evacuated to the secondary ziggurat.”

“Fark,” Leia said, standing, “They’ve taken the palace?”

“Yeah,” Jyn replied, “But the Corellian fleet’s there,” she glanced at Han, “She said they should be able to manage.”

“Garm?” Leia asked, looking to Han.

“No,” Han replied, “Irenez. Long story.”

“That’s really great news. Really great news,” Sinjir muttered brusquely, “But we should probably focus on figuring out how to take down some of the galaxy’s most advanced, most inaccessible shield generators right now. This isn’t Endor.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Han said, “I was really confused there for a moment.”

“Shut up, Han,” Jyn said conversationally, turning to Sinjir. “How well do you know this place?” she asked. 

“Fairly well,” Sinjir replied with a vague grimace, “I drew up some rough schematics on the flight down, but my intel’s at least a few years out of date.”

“It’s all we’ve got,” Leia said.

“Yeah,” Sinjir huffed out a breath, raking a hand through his long, dark hair to compose himself. “If I remember correctly,” he said, “The shield generators are, predictably, on the lowest level of the Observatory. There are several access ‘lifts running from the surface level straight down, but those need the right clearance and stuff we really don’t have the time for. Getting in and out’s also going to be pretty impossible.”

Han opened his mouth. Leia elbowed him in the stomach.

“The thing is,” Sinjir continued after a pause, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “You’re right about the whole interference thing, which is why the shield generators were--are, I hope--housed in a massive, empty borehole. Yeah, technically, it’s on the lowest level of the Observatory, but there’s nothing directly above it for maybe about two thousand kilometers of vertical space.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Han said.

Sinjir shook his head.

“The primary design objective of the Observatories was secrecy,” he said, “Not practicality, really.”

“So they literally just dug a huge hole and stuck the shield generators at the bottom.”

“It was a little more involved than that, but, essentially, yeah.”

“How does that help us?” Leia asked, ever practical.

“If I remember correctly, he planetary surface over the shield generator housing was never disturbed,” Sinjir replied, “They shipped in the parts individually and assembled the generators underground.”

“Oh fark,” Jyn said, grasping the direction of his thoughts, “You can’t be serious.”

“What?” Han demanded.

“Did you know,” Sinjir said, turning to him, “That Contruum used to be a mining colony? That’s a tradition that’s been maintained in its starship design.”

“Oh fark,” Leia said.

“All Contruum-designed ships come equipped with a hydrobit drill detachment,” Sinjir continued, “In the military, it’s mostly utilised as an auxiliary docking aid, but--” he shrugged, “--how do you think the borium mines in the eastern badlands are still excavated?”

“You can’t be serious,” Han said.

“Oh yeah,” Sinjir said, a gleam in his eye. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “We’re going to blow a hole in the farking planet.”

* * *

 

Cassian bent forward in his chair and cradled his head briefly in his hands.

“Phoenix One,” Jax crackled suddenly in his ear, “They’re turning and breaking north.”

Cassian jerked his head up, opening his eyes without realizing they had been closed.

“Come again?” he rasped into his mic.

“The Imps are pulling back from the marsh and heading north, sir,” Jax repeated grimly, “I think they’ve had enough of us.”

Cassian raised his hand and snapped loudly at Irenez, who looked across the holoprojector to him.

“Copy that,” Cassian said, “Hold your ground. We’ll get eyes over the marsh.”

“Holding,” Jax replied, “Acknowledged.”

Irenez spoke urgently into her comset, presumably scrounging up any fighters that were still in the immediate vicinity of the palace. Cassian watched her tensely, arm clasped around Pres’s middle as the boy sat quietly in his lap. At Irenez’s side, Shara held Poe and frowned. 

“Fark,” Irenez muttered. “They’re all tied up chasing the destroyers,” she said to Cassian, “It’ll be a few minutes before I can pull a couple back into atmo.”

Cassian chewed his lip. He glanced at the holomap. Imperial ground troops would be able to reach Vornez--and the presumable entrance to the presumable Jedi city--within a half hour if they continued north. He needed to see what was going on.

“We need someone up there now,” he said to Irenez.

She shook her head.

“They’re too far--” she stopped short as Shara pushed Poe into her arms.

“I’ll take your fighter,” Shara said, snatching up her jacket from the holoprojector rail and tugging it on, “I can make it there in under five.”

“Shara--” Cassian protested, half-standing.

“--You now I used to do this for a living, right?” Shara said, shaking her hair out and pulling it back tightly so it would fit under a helmet.

“Mama?” Poe asked, waking and turning away from Irenez, reaching for his mother.

“I’ll be right back,” Shara said to him softly, touching her nose to his. She took the helmet Irenez handed her.

“You should go put on a ‘suit,” Irenez said, eyeing Shara’s thin, linen shirt and trousers, “Or at least a box.” She shifted Poe aside to tap the standard-issue life-support unit on her chest.

“No time,” Shara said, tucking the helmet under an arm, “It’ll be fine--it’s just low-level recon in atmo.”

“Shara--” Cassian said again, guilt rising.

“It’ll be fine,” Shara said sharply, dark eyes measured, determined.

She brushed her hand through Poe’s hair one last time, then turned, sprinting for the hangar.

* * *

 

**2 BBY**  
(Seven years ago)

“Galli?”

“Hmm.”

“Why the fark are you still on Jakku?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this place is just sand. Lots of sand.”

“I grew up here.”

“So?”

“So it’s home.”

A snort.

“Okay.”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“The Empire does not believe in sentiment.”

“Oh, really now? So what does that make you?”

“A lapse in judgement?”

“Well, this has been a very pleasant lapse in judgement. I don’t know what the Emperor could possibly have against it.”

Another snort.

“You talk about him like you know him.”

A low growl.

“So what if I do?”

“How many farking lapses in judgement have you had?” a laugh, “ _ Sith. _ ”

“Ugh. You’re gross.”

“You started it.”

A long silence.

“You never answered my question.”

“Hmm?”

“Nice try.”

“What, about Jakku?”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“What would you say if I told you that the Emperor asked me to stay here?”

“I’d report you for reconditioning. The Emperor doesn’t  _ ask _ for anything.”

“Hmm.”

Another pause.

“Wait, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

A low rumble.

“Oh,  _ fark _ . Talk about lapses in judgement!”

A hiss--

“It wasn’t like  _ that. _ We just had an agreement.”

“Uh huh.”

“ _ Stop _ it. He’d put me, orphan scum from some backwater Outer Rim planet, through the Academy, guarantee my commission, give me a chance at life, all that--”

“--if you would stay here on Jakku.”

“Yeah.”

“But why  _ Jakku? _ ”

A long silence.

“You can’t tell me. Okay.”

“Hey--”

“--No, I get it. You can’t afford too many lapses in judgement.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

A longer pause, lingering, strained.

“What are we doing, Galli?”

“What do you mean?”

“Us. What are we doing?”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about this.”

“Yeah.”

“Then why?”

“Because you’re a soon-to-be admiral, and this is the sort of stuff they like to--metaphorically speaking--pull out of the closet when you get as high up in the food chain as you are.”

“You’re worried about me?”

“So shoot me.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not even commissioned. No one gives a fark about me.”

“That’s not true.”

“This is the Empire, Galli. No one gives a fark about anyone.”

“I do.”

“Don’t--”

“--Fark it. I’ve been thinking about this too. I do. I care about you, and fark whatever they want to do to me if they find out.”

A long pause.

“You really mean that.”

“Yeah?”

“Top of my class. I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Well, I’d better be careful, then.”

“That’s right.” A pause. Dramatically, “I’ll be the death of you yet, Admiral.”

“You know what, Sinjir?” Gallius Rax said, drawing them together, “You’re probably right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am ready for your pitchforks.
> 
> This chapter's notes (and illustration(?)) [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/159957144316/alternatively-together-chapter-28-accidental)


	29. Intermezzo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short-ish chapter. The next two will be doozies.

Sinjir jiggled his knee, swearing under his breath at the rough schematic on his datapad. Conder glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as the door to the private briefing room hissed shut behind him. Out the viewport, Jakku was a distant glimmer.

“Hand me that datachip, would you, love?” Sinjir said absently, wiggling his fingers at the datachip just out of reach at the edge of the table.

Conder reached out and nudged it over.

“Thanks,” Sinjir said, sticking it into another datapad and calling up the latest scans of the surface around the Observatory.

“So,” Conder said, perching on the edge of the table, “Rax.”

Sinjir’s stylus skittered madly across his datapad, leaving behind a large blot of digital ink. He swore again and jabbed at a control to erase it.

“Yeah,” he said roughly, head bent, nose inches from his schematic.

“It’s been, what, seven years since you were on Jakku?”

“Yeah,” Sinjir replied shortly.

“You haven’t seen him since?”

Sinjir set his stylus down on the table with a sharp clack, looking up at Conder.

“You now what?” he snapped, “I have. We’ve been having secret rendezvous in my starship every time I’m in the system. He comes aboard and we fark like farking rabbits.”

“ _Sinjir,”_ Conder snapped.

“ _Fark_ ,” Sinjir hissed, throwing himself back in his chair, clutching his hair with trembling hands, “Fark, _I’m sorry_.”

Conder watched him evenly.

“Fark,” Sinjir said, eyes closed, “There’s so much farking _shavit_ I can’t tell you, Con.”

“Then _tell me._ ”

The door to the briefing room hissed open.

“Fark,” Sinjir muttered, jerking upright and bending back over his schematics.

Leia walked in. Conder slid uneasily to his feet.

“How’s it going?” Leia asked.

“It’s going,” Sinjir grunted, thrusting a datapad at her, “I’ve got the drill site narrowed down to about thirty square meters.”

“Good work,” Leia said, looking down at his scribbled calculations, “I’ll have the engineers take a look at this.”

Sinjir frowned furiously down at his schematic.

Leia raised her eyebrows and looked to Conder, who shrugged awkwardly, glancing away.

“Let me borrow your boyfriend for a bit,” she said to Sinjir, who jerked his head up, alarmed. “Don’t worry,” she said, “It’s just a programming thing. He’ll come back to you in one piece.”

“Fine,” Sinjir grumbled, bowing his head again.

“Come on, then,” Leia said to Conder, rolling her eyes and tucking Sinjir’s datapad under an arm, jerking her chin for the door.

Conder followed reluctantly.

The door was hardly closed behind them when Leia turned to him and demanded, “How much do you know?”

“Sorry?” Conder fumbled.

“How much has he told you about his time on Jakku?”

Conder winced minutely, and Leia crossed her arms.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, cowed by the look on her face.

Leia snorted.

“I need to get Cassian back in Intelligence,” she muttered to herself, “We’re leakier than a farking caf filter.”

“Really, General--”

“--Shut it,” Leia sighed.

Conder snapped his mouth shut.

“I take that back,” she said, “Spill it.”

Conder blinked.

“What?”

“What do you know?” Leia demanded, “Note that I’m not asking you to tell me what he told you. I’m telling you to tell me what you know.”

Conder blinked again.

“ _Speak._ ”

“Uh,” he said.

“ _Intelligibly_.”

“He slept with Gallius Rax,” Conder blurted.

“ _I do not have time for this,_ ” Leia muttered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She opened them again, serenely. “Do you think you’re capable of compartmentalizing your egotistical insecurities and dealing with this professionally, or am I going to have to gag you and stuff you into the nearest _closet_ so Sinjir can stay focused?”

His brain short-circuited. Words fell from his mouth.

“You’re one to be talking,” he said, listening to them drop into the silence with detached horror.

Without missing a beat, Leia snapped, “Oh, fark you,” and stalked off down the hall. When he remained rooted in his tracks, she shouted at him over her shoulder, “Come the fark on, Kyl, I need someone to mangle some GIS code for me!”

Spurred into action, Conder sprang after her, thoroughly confused.

* * *

“Shara, come in,” Cassian said into his comset, teeth gritted.

“ _Relax_ ,” Shara snapped, crackling in his ear, “Even I can’t fly that fast.”

Poe clung to Cassian’s shirt. Pres clung Poe.

Cassian’s back ached.

“Sweeping north,” Shara said.

Cassian grimaced as Pres jabbed a small foot into his thigh, clawing his way back up against Cassian’s shoulder.

“ _Pres,_ ” Cassian hissed.

Pres cringed away apologetically.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Nothing yet,” Shara said.

“One minute to impact!” Irenez shouted from across the room.

“What?” Cassian yelped, “Where?”

“Where?” Irenez barked into her comset.

“What?” Shara said into his ear.

Kalonia chose that moment to jab a hypo into the side of his neck.

“The _fark!_ ” Cassian spat, jerking to his feet. Poe complained into his chest as Pres squashed them together, clinging to Cassian like a mud-limpet.

“Cassian, what’s going on?” Shara demanded.

“North of Lake Vidre!!” Irenez shouted.

“Nothing!” Cassian growled.

“What?” Irenez called.

“What did you _do?_ ” Cassian snarled at Kalonia.

“Nothing!” Shara protested.

“It’s just a mild analgesic,” Kalonia said calmly, closing up her bag, “You looked like you needed it.”

Cassian growled under his breath.

“Thirty seconds,” Irenez called.

Cassian braced an arm under both boys and muted his mic.

“Where?” he demanded.

“Just north of Lake Vidre,” Irenez replied, moving to stand at his side, eyes fixed on the holomap.

“Found them,” Shara said in his ear, “Heading is--twenty degrees west of north, thirty-four clicks north-east of you.”

Irenez stepped towards the holoprojector and pressed a button.

“--Fifteen seconds to impact--” Luke’s voice filled the room, “Break away the screen! Pull up! _Pull up!_ ”

“Oh fark, Cassian,” Shara said, “They’re moving fast.”

“Shara--” Cassian said, then remembered his mic was muted. “Pres,” he whispered to the boy, “Pres, I need you to get down for a second.” He bent, and Pres reluctantly relinquished his hold, pressing himself to Cassian’s leg. Cassian toggled his mic back on. “Shara, can you give me a rough estimate on their numbers?”

The earth shuddered.

And again.

“The Star Destroyers are down,” Luke’s voice crackled into the silence.

Cassian and and Irenez shared a look.

“I’m seeing about two hundred troopers,” Shara reported, “Three, no, four AT-ACTs. No other heavy artillery.”

“Okay. Good work,” Cassian said, turning away from Irenez, “Now get back here.”

“Yes, sir,” Shara said, a smile in her voice, “On my way.”

Cassian switched transmission frequencies.

“Jax,” he said, “This is Phoenix One.”

“Sir,” she replied promptly.

“Imperial troops heading twenty degrees west of north, about--” he paused and did some quick math, “--two clicks northwest of your position. Estimated strength two hundred troopers, four ACT-ACTs, please confirm.”

“Yeah,” Jax said, “That sounds like them.”

“Move to intercept,” Cassian said, absently setting a hand atop Pres’s head. “We can’t let them join up with Imperial forces up at the lake.”

“The lake. That’s what it was?”

“Yes,” Cassian said curtly, “Move to intercept, please confirm.”

“Moving to intercept,” Jax said crisply, almost cheerfully, “And interfere. Confirmed.”

“Phoenix One out,” Cassian said.

“--bombing the living Force out of them,” Luke was saying over the general comm.

“Any chance they’d be able to get into the air again?” Irenez demanded.

“Force, no,” Luke grunted, “We’ll be lucky if we can dig them up.”

Cassian and Irenez shared another look.

“How’s it looking on the ground?” Cassian asked.

“They were dropping escape pods thick as piranha beetles during mating season, but we managed to get most of them, I think. I’ve got several squadrons on patrol of the crash site. The rest are headed out to offer air support to the ground troops.”

“Good,” Cassian said, “There’s a squadron of Pathfinders just north of the palace moving to intercept the vanguard. They could use some help.”

“Got it,” Luke replied, “I’ll send Talon and Treta Squadrons.”

“That’s fine,” Irenez said.

“I’m going to--wait, hold on,” Luke said. A pause. “We lost the other Star Destroyer,” he reported, “They made it to hyperspace.”

“Let’s keep focus on their planetside forces,” Cassian said, “There’s still plenty for us to deal with here.”

“Yeah,” Luke replied.

Cassian leaned wearily against the holoprojector, head bowed for one brief moment. Some sick feeling coiled in his stomach. Pres looked up at him, clouded eyes understanding.

Cassian turned away and searched the room, spotting Private Olathryn and beckoning him over.

“Private,” he said as the young man approached, “See if you can get us a secure line with the _Tantive III._ ”

“The _Tantive III_ , sir?”

“Yeah,” Cassian replied, shifting Poe higher onto his hip, “I’ve got a bad feeling about Jakku.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/159992614986/alternatively-together-chapter-29-intermezzo).


	30. Modulation, Once More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things explode (again).

“We’re on a tight timetable here, Kyl,” Leia said, gritting her teeth, “What do you have?”

“This makes no sense,” Conder murmured, staring at the topographical data filtering by on the holoprojector.

“ _What_ makes no sense?” Leia demanded.

“This--” Conder pointed at the holo, “--says that the planet’s… hollow.”

“The planet's hollow,” Leia repeated flatly.

“Yeah,” Conder replied, baffled, “Given the scans you took on your recon flight, and compensating for variable surface density…” he trailed off, squinting at the numbers.

“I thought you were supposed to be the best at what you did,” Leia muttered.

“I’m a _slicer,_ ” Conder shot back, “Not some topographical modelling machine.”

“But this shouldn’t affect the amount of charge we need, right?” Leia said, “Or where we need to fire the drill?”

Conder shook his head.

“See this?” he said, pointing at a shallow indentation in the holo.

“Yeah.”

“That’s the area Sinjir marked out for us from his schematic. Even if my model says the planet is hollow, that spot…” he scrubbed a hand across his jaw, “...is, uh, more hollow.”

“More hollow,” Leia repeated again. “Oh fark, we’re all going to die.”

“Well, that’s a given,” Conder shot back, nettled.

Leia eyed him.

“I think I liked you better before you met Sinjir and turned into this--” she waved her hand at him, “-- _this_.”

Conder blinked.

“Never mind,” Leia said drily, “I’ll have a word with the admirals, and then we’ll head down.” She cocked her head. “Do me a favor and don’t let Sinjir know until we’re away. I don’t want him on that planet again if I can help it.”

Conder opened his mouth.

“But--” he said.

The door closed in his face.

* * *

“Incoming ‘call from Yavin 4,” a comms officer shouted across the bridge.

“Put it through,” Kes replied, adjusting his headset. “Base One,” he said, “This is TSH.”

“Kes?”

“Cass? Thank _fark,_ ” Kes muttered, pulling the transmission off shipwide broadcast, “How are things going there?”

“Fine,” Cassian replied, “Have you guys reached Jakku yet?”

“What do you mean ‘ _fine_ ’?” Kes returned.

“ _Kes_ ,” Cassian said sharply, “I need to talk to Leia.”

Kes glanced over his shoulder.

“I think she’s already back down on the surface,” he said, frowning, “Why? What’s happening?”

A pause.

“I don’t know,” Cassian admitted, strained.

“You have a bad feeling about this, don’t you.”

“It’s--”

“--I _hate_ your bad feelings,” Kes muttered. He looked up as Jyn barged onto the bridge and strode directly to him. “Hey,” he said, both into the mic and and to Jyn, “You won’t believe--”

Jyn snatched away his headset.

“Cassian,” she said quickly, slumping against the console. Kes smiled to himself and surreptitiously scooted away, busying himself with deliberately deliberate eavesdropping.

“Jyn,” Cassian replied, warm and surprised.

_It’s good to hear your voice._

“I heard you hit your head again,” Jyn said.

Kes raised his eyebrows.

“I’m fine,” Cassian grumbled, “Sorry it took so long to get a message out. My datapad was in the palace.”

“How irresponsible of you.”

_I get it._

Cassian grunted softly.

“I take it things are under control on your end?” Jyn asked, “Or are you just being irresponsible again and shirking your Command duties to speak to me?”

“Which do you prefer?”

Jyn smiled, looking down at her boots. Kes rolled his eyes, reading both sides of the conversation from her reaction alone.

“The first one, to be honest,” she replied, “How is everyone?” she glanced at Kes. “Shara? Luke? The boys?”

Cassian cleared his throat.

“Luke’s out leading the Corellian fighters, and Shara’s on her way back from a recon run-- _don’t_ say anything to Kes. The boys are fine. A little scared, but they’re tough kids.”

A pause. She knew he was working up the nerve to speak.

“There were heavy casualties at the palace,” he said finally.

“Don’t start,” she said sharply, turning her back on Kes, on the rest of the room, to face the console, “Don’t you _dare_ start.”

She could almost see the self-loathing on his face.

“Yeah,” he said, sucking in a breath, “Yeah. I know. Sorry.”

She gave him a moment.

“I’m going down planetside in a few minutes,” she said, “I wanted to ‘call you before I left.”

Another pause, one she read just as easily.

“Okay,” he said, voice taut, tightly controlled.

She wondered how he’d ever been a spy.

“This guy we picked up on Kashyyyk said there’s some sort of Sith depository down on the planet, so we’re going to go have a look at it.”

They both knew what that meant.

“Kaytoo will be with me,” she continued, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

“Yeah,” he said. A small scuffling, scraping sound. “Listen, do you want to talk to Pres? I have him here with me.”

Her throat tightened.

“I wouldn’t know what to say,” she said.

“It’ll be fine,” he replied, warm and reassuring again. “Give me a second.” More scuffling, shuffling, quiet, indistinguishable words. Then, slightly breathlessly, Cassian’s voice again, “It’s Jyn, Pres. She just wants to say hey.”

“Hey, Pres,” she said. Hesitantly, she added, “I hear you’ve been very brave.”

“Not really,” Pres replied, voice small and shy.

“No,” Jyn said, “Even Cassian has to try hard to be brave and he’s an old man.”

“Hey!” Cassian protested, a smile in his voice.

Pres giggled quietly.

“Jyn!” Han called from the door, “Come on, let’s go!”

She held up a finger.

“I can't talk for too long, Pres,” she said into the mic, “but before I go, could you promise me one thing?”

“Okay,” Pres whispered.

“Take care of Cassian, okay?” she said, keenly aware of the cracks in her voice, of Kes’s sympathetic gaze, “He pretends like he’s a big strong man, but really he’s just a little boy--just like Poe--and he needs someone like you around. Could you--” she took a quick, steadying breath, “--could you promise me that?”

“Yeah,” Pres said firmly, “I’ll take care of him.”

“Okay,” Jyn said, “Thank you.” More scuffling from the other end of the line.

“ _Jyn,”_ Han insisted, “C’mon!”

Jyn ignored him.

“Take care of each other,” she said to Cassian.

“We will,” he said.

She closed her eyes briefly.

“I’ll be seeing you, then, General,” she said, forcing levity into her voice.

“And you, Lieutenant,” he replied, quiet and reluctant.

She lingered for a moment, listening to him breathe.

“Goodbye,” she said.

She cut the connection before he could reply.

* * *

**2 BBY**    
(Seven Years Ago)

“Don’t get involved,” Fulcrum’s flickering holo said, “You get involved, you get attached, we all die.”

“Didn’t you recruit me _because_ I was involved?” Sinjir snapped, raking a hand back through his hair, “I can’t exactly get _un_ -involved now, can I?”

Fulcrum eyed him levelly, dark eyes unreadable.

“You know what I mean,” he said, “I need you to find out what they’re doing with those plasma centrifuges. It looks like they’re building a shield generator.”

Sinjir glanced warily over his shoulder.

“So what if they are?” he said, “It’s just a shield generator, not some super laser or anything.”

“Report back to me this time next week,” Fulcrum said flatly, “I’ll be waiting.”

The transmission fizzled out, leaving Sinjir staring blankly at empty space.

“Well,” a voice behind him said, “He doesn’t look happy.”

Sinjir snorted, turning and waving the lights back on.

“He always looks like that.”

“What a pity,” Gallius Rax said, stretching out on the couch, “He has such a pretty face.”

Sinjir grimaced.

“Yeah,” he said.

“What are you going to tell him next week?”

“I don’t know,” Sinjir replied, slumping bonelessly down on top of him, “What do you want me to tell him?”

“Eufgh,” Gallius grunted, “You’re heavy.”

“You know,” Sinjir said, “I don’t think he’d take that quite in the way it was meant.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass, you know?”

“I know,” Sinjir replied, propping himself up on his elbows, “That’s why you’re so in love with me.”

Gallius smiled.

“That’s not the only reason,” he said.

* * *

Conder steeled himself, tapping lightly on the doorframe before entering the empty briefing room.

“Sinjir,” he said, “They just left.”

Sinjir snapped to his feet so violently his knees popped.

“What?” he demanded.

Conder pressed a hand to his chest.

“They’re gone. Sit down.”

“ _Conder_ ,” Sinjir hissed, “What--I was supposed to go down with them! Weren’t you and Leia still putting together a model--”

“--we decided the one we had was good enough,” Conder said, cutting him off, “It gave us what we needed, even if it said the whole farking planet was hollow--”

“‘Good enough’!?” Sinjir spluttered, “You sent them down to blow a hole in a planet on information that was just _‘good enough’!?_ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” Conder replied, exasperated, “It was General Organa’s call, and she decided it would be better to press what advantage we had while we had it.”

Sinjir carded both hands through his hair, clasping them behind his head and slumping against the table.

“And since I’m here, I’m going to say that I’m glad you didn’t join them.”

Sinjir’s brow furrowed, and he glared at the floor.

Conder watched him.

“If there’s something you need to say,” he said, putting a careful hand on Sinjir’s arm, “I’ll listen.”

Sinjir brought his hands down to his sides and looked up at Conder.

“Did you say the plant was _hollow?”_ he asked.

Conder frowned faintly.

“Sin,” he said, “That was just the model. There’s no way--”

“--hollow planet,” Sinjir muttered to himself, pacing away, “Hollow planet. Why does that sound familiar? Hollow--”

“--Don’t--” Conder began. Sinjir sprinted from the room. “--do that again,” he muttered.

The door shut in his face.

He sighed.

* * *

Kes looked up from the comsat console as Sinjir rushed onto the bridge, long hair tousled, large eyes scanning the faces before him. He found Kes and strode over.

“I need you put in a ‘call to Yavin 4,” he said tightly.

“Why?” Kes asked, looking up at him warily, “I just got off the line with them.”

“It’s about farking _Jakku_ ,” Sinjir snarled, fumbling the headset from Kes’s hands and punching in a code by memory.

“Hey!” Kes yelped.

“Base One,” Sinjir said crisply, ignoring him, “Requesting secure communication with Phoenix One, authorization code Aleph-Aleph-Two-Eight.”

Kes blinked.

“Cassian,” Sinjir said into the mic after a moment, “Thank fark.”

A brief pause.

“ _Sinjir?_ ” Cassian demanded, incredulous.

“Yeah. Long time no see.”

“What the _fark_ are you doing over Jakku?”

Sinjir laughed humorlessly.

“Wouldn’t I like to know,” he said, “Listen,” he continued, “I need to ask you something.”

“This would explain my bad feeling.”

“Shut up and listen.” Sinjir took a breath. Kes glared at him. “Have you ever heard of a hollow planet?”

Silence.

“A _what?”_

“A hollow planet,” Sinjir repeated urgently, “Conder’s been running some GIS data because we’ve found the Observatory and we’re planning on blowing a hole in the surface to get to the reactor--”

“--you _what?_ ”

“Ignore that last part for now, would you?” SInjir winced, “The thing is, the GIS data doesn’t match with what our scanners say should be the relative density of the surface.”

“And you’re asking me because--?”

“--The Death Star,” Sinjir said quickly, “You’ve seen what it does firsthand--it destroys a planet from the inside, right?”

“Sinjir--”

“-- _Right?_ ”

Another pause.

“The Death Star--” Cassian began with rigid control, “The Death Star destabilizes a planet from the core out, yes. That was the primary purpose of its superlaser.”

Sinjir swore violently.

“You have to comm them,” he said to Kes, “They can’t blow the surface. That borehole goes straight to the planet’s core. That’s why we’ve been having so much trouble modeling the planet.” He barked a laugh, “There _is_ no farking planet.”

“They drilled to the planetary core?” Cassian snapped in his ear, “that’s not possible.”

“Yeah,” Sinjir replied shortly as Kes urgently relayed his orders to a junior comms officer, “It is.” He snarled, “ _That’s_ what he didn’t want to tell me. It was a farking suicide pact.”

“You knew,” Cassian said, “About the Observatory.”

“I helped build it,” SInjir muttered, turning away from Kes, who eyed him with a familiar growing distrust, “Of course I knew about it. I just didn’t think it’d still be here.”

“Sinjir--” Cassian sighed.

“ _What?_ ” Sinjir snapped, “I knew about the Observatory, but it’s not like I knew the farking Imperial Remnant’d  decided to park its whole farking fleet on farking _Jakku_.”

“Oh fark,” Kes said.

“What?” Sinjir demanded, pulling his mic away, “Did you raise them?”

“Oh fark,” Kes repeated, standing slowly, eyes fixed on the viewport.

SInjir turned, slowly.

Fire.

Hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, Jakku, punctured, flared brightly, spitting fire.

Sinjir knew who’d gone down to the surface. Han. Leia. Jyn. Heroes of the Rebellion.

Nevertheless, his first, unbidden thought was--

 _Galli_.

He tore Kes’s headphones from his ears and sprinted for the hangar.

* * *

Cassian staggered back, face drained of color.

Firm hands gripped his shoulders, taking Poe from him, grounding him.

Something--some great, distant upheaval--

_Jyn._

Vaguely, he felt Pres clutch him tighter,

_A desert planet--Jedha, no, not Jedha, Jedha was gone, a thing of the past--_

_\--emptiness, a molten core of--_

_\--desperation in his eyes--_

He gasped, wrenching himself back to physical reality to find Shara’s face inches from his, her hands on his shoulders.

“Cassian?” she demanded, eyes large and worried, “You back with us?”

“Yeah,” he said thickly, realizing he was flat on his back on the floor of the command center. He winced.

“Well,” Harter Kalonia said acidly, kneeling next to him, “I told you so.”

Cassian looked quickly to Shara. Her eyes widened further.

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing them away and sitting up.

The ground pitched beneath him, and he breathed deeply through his nose. He felt Pres’s small hand fall on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and turned to him.

“I’m fine,” he said, mustering a small smile.

Pres bit his lip.

“I felt it too,” he said.

“It’s Jakku,” he said to Shara under his breath.

“What happened?” She searched his face. Lower, she amended, “What’s going to happen?”

“I think they might accidentally have disrupted the planetary core,” he replied, reaching up, gripping the edge of the holoprojector, and hauling himself to his feet.

“The core?” Shara asked, holding him upright as Kalonia shone her light in his eyes again, “The core of what?”

“The planet,” he replied shortly, swaying on his feet. An echo of the final image assaulted him. “ _Fark_ ,” he hissed, doubling over, hands pressed to his temples, “ _Sinjir._ ”

“What?”

“Fark,” Cassian snarled, straightening, “I need to get to Jakku.” He sucked in a sharp breath, swearing bitterly under his breath, “Farking _Force._ ”

“Did you hit your head again?” Shara replied.

“Luke needs to come with me.”

“It’ll take you farking _hours_ to get there, Cassian. There’s no point.”

“There’s always a point,” he spat, reaching for his comset, “We need to go now.”

“Cassian--”

“--We need to go,” Cassian repeated fiercely, “We need to go, or another planet’s going to be destroyed, and this time, it's really going to be my fault.”

“Cass--”

“--ian.” Luke’s voice crackled from the holoprojector speakers, “Did you--”

“--Yeah,” Cassian replied, “We need to go.”

“I’m on my way back.”

“Just like that,” Shara said, glancing at Irenez, who watched them, face carefully guarded. “You’re going to desert your post.”

“I’m leaving someone very capable in charge,” Cassian replied.

Shara looked to Irenez, then back at Cassian.

“No,” she said.

He held out his comset.

“General Bey,” he said, apology in his eyes.

“No,” she repeated, Poe clutched tightly in one arm, “I’m done.”

“Shara,” he said with a fractured smile, “You’re never done with the Rebellion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be notes going up later today, but as of now, I'm exhausted, so it'll have to wait, unfortunately.
> 
> ETA: Did I really say I posted this and then forget to hit "Post"? I did. Sorry.


	31. Acceso

This was Jyn’s second time fleeing an erupting planet. She remembered Jedha. Bodhi. Baze. Chirrut.

At the controls, Kaytoo navigated them through the streaking debris with inhuman precision. At his side, Han sat and did as he was told, screaming bloody murder.

“What the _fark_ was that!? _”_ he hollered, “That was supposed to blow a hole _in_ the planet, not blow _up_ the farking thing!”

“ _Shut up and fly!”_ Leia snarled.

Jyn peered through the juddering viewport at the massive maw of darkness that had opened up beneath them. She spotted small, bright specks streaming their way out. Unbuckling her crash harness, she scrambled for the comsat unit.

“Jyn!” Leia shouted over the groaning of the shuttle, “What’re you doing? Sit down!”

Jyn ignored her.

“ _Tantive III!_ ” she yelled into the comsat, “Shields are down! I repeat, the shields are down! Imperial troops are in the air!”

A wild burst of static.

“Jyn!?” Kes’s voice crackled, “You guys--” a rush of static “--core--” a loud snap “--out of there!”

“No!” she replied, looking back out the viewport, “We’re fine! It’s fine!”

This wasn’t Jedha. The horizon stretched before them, endlessly certain.

“We!” Han shouted, “Are _not. FINE!_ ”

“ _Then shut the fark up and fly!_ ” Leia hollered.

“Kes, just get some fighters down here!” Jyn commanded.

“ _That borehole goes straight to the planetary core!”_ Kes shouted.

The shuttle lurched, dropped sickeningly.

“ _What?”_ Han spat.

“The planet,” Kes continued, “It’s _hollow!_ ”

Jyn flinched, looking over her shoulder at Leia as the shuttle bucked again.

“What do you mean ‘it’s hollow’?” she demanded.

“Well, almost all of it,” Kes replied, “Everything for about four hundred thousand square farking _kilometers_ is underground. You just blew a farking hole straight to the middle of the farking planet!”

“Wasn’t that the goal?” Jyn spat, staggering forward against the console. An alarm blared in the cockpit.

“I don’t _know,_ ” Kes snapped, “You’re the one that parked me in front of the farking comsat.”

“Where’s Sinjir?” Leia demanded suddenly, leaning out of her seat towards Jyn. Han swiveled around in his seat to her, knuckles white. “Get Sinjir on the line.”

“Leia wants to talk to Sinjir,” Jyn yelled into the mic as the shuttle turned onto its side, sending her crashing against the console.

“--went down to the farking planet!” Kes shouted, “He’s farking _insane!”_

“What do you mean he’s coming down to the planet?” Jyn demanded.

“He’s coming down to the planet!?” Leia repeated, alarm plain on her face. Jyn tossed her a spare headset. Leia shoved it over her head, eyes wide.

“I mean he saw you blow a farking _hole_ in the planet--” Kes replied, “--we all saw it, even all the way out here--and he took off for the hangar like a farking wampa with its ass on fire.”

“Ah, _fark!”_ Leia snarled violently.

Jyn looked at her sharply, warily.

A long burst of static. Around them, the shuttle shuddered again, then leveled out.

“Fighters are on their way down,” Kes said suddenly, voice loud and clear in their ears, “We’re running compositional scans on the blast site to figure out what’s going on, but…” he hesitated, silence punctuated by muffled voices, then returned, “... it looks like you’ve blown off about a thousand square kilometers of crust. The seismic readings we’re still getting from your hydrobit detachment are farking insane.”

“Have you contacted Sinjir?” Leia demanded.

“No,” Kes replied, drawing the word out, “We’re a little busy at the moment.” He paused. “You want me to try?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Leia growled.

Han eyed her again, absently reaching up to shut off the coolant injector override.

Jyn pulled her headset off and staggered carefully up to the cockpit.

“How’re we doing?” she asked Kaytoo.

“The statistical probability of our imminent destruction has decreased from 87% to 85%,” he reported.

“So better,” she said.

Kaytoo turned to look at her.

“No,” he said, “Not really.”

“Right.”

“--What do you mean ‘ _he’s not replying’?”_ Leia shouted.

Han winced, turning down the volume in his headset. They shared a look. Han shrugged, minutely.

Jyn turned back to Kaytoo.

“Find a place for us to land,” she said, “I get the feeling Leia’s going to want us to have a look around.”

“That is a bad idea,” Kaytoo said.

“Thanks,” Jyn replied, returning to the comsat console and sliding her headset back on.

“--no, Conder’s still here. Why--”

“--ah, _fark_ ,” Leia hissed, “You can track the shuttle, right?”

“Yeah,” Kes replied, “I just sent you the coordinates.”

“Yeah, got them,” Han said, jabbing at the beeping navicomp.

“Where is he?” Leia demanded, peering over Han’s shoulder. .

“Leia,” Kes said, “is there something I need to know about--”

“--He’s, uh… right _there--_ ” Han stabbed a finger out the forward windscreen just as a ‘ship streaked past, heading straight for the epicenter of the blast.

Leia swore between clenched teeth.

“We’re not going to--” Han began.

“--Follow him,” Leia commanded.

Han drew himself up, eyes hardening.

“Why?” he demanded, “How’s it our problem if he’s got a death wish?”

“He’s a _friend_ , Han,” Leia returned.

“Yeah, an ex-Imp who knows a little bit too much about this Observatory thing.”

“ _Han_.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Han said, “Who _is_ this guy?”

“A _friend_ ,” Leia insisted, “Ex-Imperial or not, does it matter?”

“Damn right it farking matters,” Han snorted, “Since when have you trusted the word of any Imp agent?”

“Since he saved my life,” Leia snapped, “Six years ago, when you were still cheating your way across the farking galaxy. Don’t you _dare_ pass judgement on him.”

Han looked at her, long and heavy.

Kaytoo shattered the silence.

“Moving to intercept,” he said blandly.

Han made a strangled noise of protest in the back of his throat.

Leia turned on her heel and stalked back to her seat.

Jyn watched. And waited.

* * *

Conder sat.

He stared at the durasteel walls.

He’d been fooled. Swindled.

Cheated.

Had he?

He had.

 _Had_ he?

His comlink shrilled loudly, and he flinched, pulling it mechanically from his pocket.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

“We need you up on the bridge,” Kes said shortly.

Conder blinked, dragged a hand through his hair.

“Me,” he said, “Why?”

“We, believe it or not, are sending troops down to the surface,” Kes replied, “Seismic activity’s died down enough that it’s safe enough to land, and we’ve already blasted a giant hole in the roof of Imperial headquarters, so this is actually happening. General Organa’s orders.”

General Organa. She’d known. Had she?

“Why do you need _me?_ ”

“We have a team on the ground already working to get into the Imperial database to get a record of their movements. They could use some help.”

Conder stood with a grunt, shaking out stiffened limbs.

“I’m on my way,” he replied.

“Good,” Kes replied.

* * *

 

“Rogue Leader,” Shara said into her comset, “How’s it looking down there?”

“We’ve got them contained within two hundred meters of the crash sight,” Wedge Antilles replied, “Ground troops holding steady.”

“Copy that,” she said, balancing Poe on her hip, “Good work.”

“Thanks,” Wedge said. There was a moment of silence. Then-- “Shara, it’s going to be a bloodbath down there. We have them pinned down.”

Shara answered his unspoken question with another.

“Any idea who their commanding officer is?”

“No,” Wedge replied, a vague note of relief in his strained voice, “I didn’t recognize any of the insignia.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Shara said, Just hold your positions.”

“Copy that, Base One.”

Shara pushed her mic away and turned to Irenez.

“You caught that?” she asked.

Irenez nodded, tightly, lips pressed together.

“I might be able to help with that,” crackled a familiar voice across the line.

“BoShek?” Shara snapped, pulling her mic back down to her mouth, “Where’ve you been?”

“Sunbathing,” the pilot snorted, “What do you _think?_ ”

Shara rigidly suppressed a sigh.

“What can you tell me about these troops?” she asked instead.

“I, uh, might have come across them before,” BoShek replied, “Back in my smuggling days.”

Irenez twitched an eyebrow.

“Those two destroyers you’ve got buried in the sand are the _Dreamshiver_ and the _Dartdusk_. I wish I was joking when I say that,” he said before she could reply, “But I’m not. When I, er, ran into them last time--which was years and _years_ ago--they were under the joint command of a guy called Shaef Corssin.”

Shara looked sharply at Irenez.

“Corssin’s dead,” she said, “He was on the _Devastator_ when it went down over Endor.”

“Did you not hear me say ‘years and years ago’?” BoShek replied.

Shara bit her lip.

“But you’re sure those are the two destroyers.”

“Yeah,” BoShek snorted again, “Makes me want to take a hydrospanner to the head of whoever named the farking things.”

Irenez rolled her eyes and turned away, whispering commands to an aide.

“Okay,” Shara muttered, “Well, thanks. We’ll see what we can do with that.”

“I’m always glad to help,” BoShek said grandly, clicking off the transmission.

“We’re searching the Imperial database now,” Irenez reported into the silence, “Troops on Jakku have managed a direct uplink.”

 _Kes_ , Shara thought, unbidden. She smoothed a hand through Poe’s hair, glancing over her shoulder at Pres, who sat quietly in Cassian’s empty chair, still and unmoving.

She shivered.

“Great,” she said, turning back to the flickering holomap, “Thanks.”

* * *

Luke eyed Cassian as hypserspace streaked by around them. He felt the other man’s blank absence in the Force, felt the quiet, closed mystery.

“You need something?” Cassian muttered, frowning furiously at the spare datapad he’d managed to requisition before their departure.

Luke opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“I can’t figure you out,” he said.

Cassian looked up, eyebrows raised.

“Your visions,” Luke clarified, “They don’t make any sense. I mean--” he clarified again, “--I don’t understand why you’re the one getting them.”

“And not you,” Cassian finished.

Luke shifted in his seat, overcome by a familiar, overwhelming sense of _youth_ in Cassian’s presence.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said.

“You’re not the only one who’s tried to make sense of it,” Cassian said drily, turning back to his datapad.

Luke looked away, forcefully releasing the urge to fidget to the Force.

“Listen,” he began again after a long period of silence, “I have to talk to you about something.”

“Does it have anything to do with the Force?” Cassian grunted.

“Uh… Yeah.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“ _Cassian_ ,” Luke said.

Cassian looked up at him again, wary impatience lurking behind dark eyes.

“It’s about Pres,” Luke said.

“No,” Cassian replied.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Luke pressed.

“We’re not discussing this,” Cassian snapped, eyes hard, unyielding.

“We’re gonna have to talk about it eventually,” Luke replied, folding his arms, “It’s obvious he’s strong in the Force. _Very_ strong in the Force.”

“So?” Cassian retorted, “He’s just a boy.”

“ _Exactly,”_ Luke said, “The younger we start training, the easier it is for everyone involved.”

“You don’t train _children,_ ” Cassian hissed.

“This is different,” Luke replied, spreading his hands in aggravation, searching for words, “It’s not like I’m teaching him to go off and become an assassin or anything.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

“Cassian, look--” Luke leaned forward earnestly, “It’s as much for his safety as it is for, I don’t know, the good of the galaxy. It’s really easy for untrained Force-sensitives to unintentionally hurt themselves or others around them.”

“You know what?” Cassian said flatly, “I think I know what you mean.”

Luke planted his forehead briefly in his palm.

“Yeah,” he said, “You know.” He looked up. “You _know_ how hard it is.”

“You haven’t really even been trained yourself,” Cassian said sharply.

That stung.

Luke drew back. Cassian watched him, inscrutable.

“Cassian,” Luke said quietly, “The Jedi kept peace across the galaxy for millennia. I’m one of the only ones left. It’s my duty to the Order to help rebuild it.”

“It’s the Jedi’s fault the Empire ever rose to power,” Cassian said, voice low, harsh, “They were so blinded by their dedication to tradition and ceremony they couldn’t even see that they'd become tools of the Empire itself. I think the Jedi Order’s the last thing you need to be rebuilding.”

Luke flinched and sat back.

“Cassian--” he said, aghast.

“Have you forgotten that I fought with the Separatists against your Jedi Order?” Cassian continued, low and fierce, “It--”

“--Darth Sidious had control of the Jedi Order during the Clone Wars,” Luke replied, “You can’t say that the Order during that time was really what the Order was supposed to be like.”

“What, and you know this how?” Cassian laughed hollowly, “You didn’t see what the Jedi Order became. I _have_.”

“There are just some things that--”

“--and the two who trained you,” Cassian continued, “They were two _legends_ of the Clone Wars era,--Kenobi and Yoda.” He leveled his unrelenting gaze at Luke. “And there's also your father.”

“Leave him out of this,” Luke snapped, temper rising, “This has nothing to do with him. We’re talking about Pres.”

“Leave him out of this!?” Cassian barked, bitter and sour all at once, “Leave Darth Vader out of a discussion about the Jedi?” He pushed his datapad aside. “Open your eyes, Luke! Your father's the perfect example of everything wrong with the Jedi. He was so afraid of losing your mother--a fear the Jedi planted in him by banning simple human emotion--that he brought the entire galaxy to the verge of destruction. Are you really saying that _that_ is what you want to rebuild?”

Luke looked away.

“It’s his decision to make,” he said quietly, finally, “He’s old enough.”

“He’s _six years old!_ ”

“Yeah,” Luke retorted, meeting Cassian’s eyes defiantly, “And what were _you_ doing when you were his age? We’re still in the middle of a war, Cassian. Age means nothing.”

Cassian clenched his jaw and stood, shoving his chair back.

“I’ve already lost one son to your farking war,” he spat, “I won’t be losing another.”

Staring at his boots, Luke listened to him stalk away down the narrow corridor to his cabin.

And there, in the silence of hyperspace, the seeds of doubt began to fester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/160067559026/alternatively-together-chapter-31-acceso).  
> There's a bit of trivia in there for you.


	32. Interlude VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, a child is adopted for no reason.

He returned from Fest a hollow man.

She shot Luke a look as they piled into a waiting speeder. The young Jedi shook his head wearily.

She took the controls.

Cassian stared blankly at the windscreen, fixated on the transpariplast, oblivious to the world on either side. Luke fell asleep in the rear seat.

When they arrived in Vornez, she helped Cassian down and made sure he was steady on his feet before shaking Luke awake.

Kes, standing on his back porch, looked at them and sighed, the war returned to his doorstep. He watched Cassian disappear into the house next door without a word, stiff and straight. He watched Luke speak quietly with Jyn, who tapped frustrated fingers on her folded arms. He watched her stalk off after Cassian. He watched as Luke approached, rucksack slung over one slumped shoulder.

“That bad, huh?” Kes asked.

Luke squinted up at him from the bottom of the steps.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely, heaving himself up.

Kes took his rucksack and clapped him on the back.

“Welcome home, kid,” he said.

* * *

He stared blankly at the pages in his lap.

_\--its history during the Clone Wars was marked by its occupation by Separatist forces under the command of Travia Chan, that famed resistance fighter who gained notoriety after her decision to align forces with the Rebellion, arguably the turning point of the early rebellion..._

Words faded, failed.

He remembered telling Bail about this late one night on Alderaan, months and months before the planet’s destruction.

_“So she really was playing both sides,” Bail said, only mildly surprised._

_Cassian shrugged, setting down his glass._

_“Kind of,” he replied, sitting back and allowing the wine to settle in his stomach._

_Bail raised an eyebrow._

_“Fine,” Cassian huffed, “In a sense, yes. Travia was playing both sides. Separatist. Rebel. But it’s all the same in the end, right?” He looked at Bail piercingly, “We were all fighting to be rid of what turned out to be the same thing.”_

_“You knew?”_

_“No,” Cassian shook his head, “Not at first, at least.” He paused a moment, considering. A faint smile crept onto his face._

_“What?” Bail asked, amused._

_“She didn’t tell me until you and Mon Mothma came to Fest that first time, when I was still trying to convince her to join the Rebellion.”_

_“For which we are forever in your debt,” Bail said grandly, pressing a hand to his chest with a grin._

_Cassian smirked._

_“And don’t think I’m ever going to let you forget that.”_

“Cassian? _Cassian_.”

He blinked, startled by the darkness, and looked up at Jyn.

“You’ve been staring,” she said, sitting ungracefully next to him, “I was beginning to worry your eyeballs might fall out out.”

He blinked again.

“You have a ‘call from Leia,” Jyn continued, “I told her I’d come get you.”

“Leia?” he said blankly.

“Yeah. Princess Leia? Senator Organa?”

He flinched at this last one and stood. Jyn looked at the book he’d left behind on the couch. He turned for his study before she could say anything.

“Leia,” he said to the waiting holo, closing the door behind him.

“Before you say no,” shimmery-blue Leia said, “Hear me out.”

Cassian crossed his arms.

“Leia--” he said wearily.

“--There’s a boy,” Leia said, “Some sort of cousin of mine.” She looked him in the eye. “An orphan.”

“No,” Cassian said flatly.

“Cassian, he has no other family left.”

“I’m not family,” Cassian snapped, “I never was.”

“You were as close as it got,” Leia retorted.

“Why don’t _you_ take him then? That is what you’re asking, isn’t it?”

“Are you kidding?” Leia snorted, “Me, raise a kid? With who? _Han?_ ”

He conceded her point.

“Don’t you have something set up for this?” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Something on Espirion or something?”

“That’s where he is right now,” Leia replied, “Cassian, with the whole xenophobia thing Jora Astane stirred up with that speech of hers, I don’t think it’s a good idea for one of the last members of House Organa to be on a planet where some angry people could get their hands on him.”

“Ask Shara and Kes,” he said, “They’re retired. They have time. They even have Poe.”

“They’re not _family_ , Cassian.”

“Yeah, they are,” he returned, “You say that I’m your family, and Shara really is mine, so by extension--”

“ _Jyn!_ ” Leia shouted over him, “Jyn, get in here!”

Cassian sighed as the door opened behind him.

“What’s he done now?” Jyn asked, stalking in.

“Nothing,” Cassian muttered.

“Exactly,” Leia said. She turned to Jyn, who’d taken up her customary position at Cassian’s side. “There’s a boy that needs a home,” she said.

“What,” Jyn said flatly.

“He’s around six standard,” Leia said pointedly, “Some distant relative of mine.”

“You knew his parents?”

“I’ve been told his mother was an old friend of my father’s,” Leia said, pausing, then adding quickly, “And there’s something else.”

Cassian glared at her.

“I think he might be Force-sensitive,” she said.

“What,” he said.

“You heard me.”

“Force-sensitive?” Jyn asked, “Like a Jedi?”

“Maybe,” Leia wrinkled her nose, “I’m not the one you should be asking about it.”

“Who told you this?” Cassian demanded.

“A friend,” Leia replied.

“ _Leia_.”

“I really can’t say more. I wish I could, believe me.”

Jyn looked at Cassian.

“No,” he said.

“I’m not saying _yes_ ,” Jyn snapped, “I’m saying we should talk about it.”

“Jyn, we’re still the middle of a war,” Cassian replied, disbelieving, “Both of us are still on active duty. We can’t just _adopt a child_ ”

“Why not?” Jyn retorted, “There are plenty of abandoned children out there who need a home.”

“--And I’ll take that as my cue to tactfully withdraw,” Leia said wryly, “Don’t kill each other, please.”

She leaned forward, and a moment later, her image fizzled out.

“I can’t believe you,” Cassian said.

“I could say the same,” Jyn replied.

Cassian stared at her levelly, brow furrowed. A muscle in his jaw jumped.

Jyn met his gaze evenly.

He flinched.

“Why,” he said.

“Why not,” she replied.

“That’s--” he burst out, “That’s a _terrible_ reason.”

“You really need a reason to give a child a home?” Jyn retorted.

Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t understand--” he began.

“--oh, I think I do,” Jyn snarled.

He looked down at his boots. Tightened his arms across his chest.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “Sorry.”

Jyn said nothing.

“Jyn,” he began again, looking earnestly up at her, “I’m no good at family.”

“And you think I am?”

“That’s not what I mean,” he replied, “I’m saying there are plenty of other homes--families--out there that would be much better for him. Homes where the adults aren’t mixed up in the middle of a galactic war.”

“You heard what Leia said,” Jyn said, “About him being Force-sensitive. You want that boy to be put with a bunch of strangers we can’t trust?”

“What difference does it make when I can’t even trust _myself?_ ” Cassian hissed.

“You can’t just use blaming yourself as your way out of everything you’re afraid to do,” Jyn shot back, “It’s getting old.”

Cassian stared at her.

“For a spy,” she said, resting her palm against his chest, “You really are incredibly easy to read.”

“Jyn--” he said, the ghosts of Fest bright in his mind.

“--Stop,” she said, “Stop thinking about them.”

He blinked rapidly, hands clenched around his arms.

“I can’t,” he said.

“You don’t want to,” she corrected.

“You think I haven’t tried?” he shot back.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I think you haven’t tried the one thing you know might work.”

“What,” he bit out, scorn resting heavy on his voice, “Adopting a future _Jedi?_ ”

“No,” Jyn said patiently, “Trying again.”

Cassian looked away, shaking his head.

“I’m not trying-- _replacing--_ them.”

“This isn’t replacing them,” Jyn said sharply, “It’s _respecting_ them. By moving on. You’ve always made your own family. So have I. You don’t ever really replace the ones who’re gone so much as--” she shrugged stiffly, “--find them again in someone else.”

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

“I think,” she said slowly, carefully brushing her hand over his, “You might have already started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have to take _another_ break from this to work on my May the Fourth submission, which I am 100% prepared to reveal is 100% never going to fit in this series. 
> 
> Yes, the world has ended. Yes, I am writing a complete and _utter_ AU.
> 
> Sorry for all the stops and starts. We'll get to the end eventually.


	33. Acciaccato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A door to the heart is reached.

**2 BBY**    
Seven Years Ago

“Can we talk?”

In the darkness, Gallius Rax, Fleet Admiral of the Imperial Navy, reached out and stroked away a strand of damp hair.

“Yeah,” he said, “Of course.”

Sinjir wrapped a hand around Gallius’s shoulders, drawing them closer together.

“Does the Emperor have some sort of contingency plan for his death?” he asked bluntly.

Warm, firm muscle tensed beneath his arm.

“Where’d you hear that?” Gallius murmured into his chest.

 _Traitor_.

“Just a rumor,” Sinjir replied with forced lightness, “Word’s been going ‘round that that’s what we’re building here. Some sort of doomsday plan or something.”

Gallius huffed a laugh.

“No one can kill the Emperor. He’s a Sith. He can’t die.”

“Yeah? What about Dooku?”

“Dooku wasn’t a real Sith. The Emperor’d always meant for Vader to take his place.”

Sinjir closed his eyes, hiding.

“Do you know how many it’ll kill?”

“What?” Gallius murmured, hands slipping under Sinjir’s arms to clasp his waist.

“When you blow the planet,” SInjir whispered into his ear, “When you do what the Emperor tells you to do when he’s dead but the Empire isn’t.”

Gallius pulled away sharply.

“What do you mean?” he demanded, “Blow up the planet? What planet?”

Sinjir kept his eyes closed.

“The Observatory,” he said, “That’s what this is, isn’t it? Palpatine can’t stand the thought of the Empire outliving him, so he’s put you in charge of ending it when he’s gone.”

“Who told you this?” Gallius snapped.

“It’s true,” Sinjir said quietly, turning onto his back to face the ceiling, “You don’t have to say anything.” He opened his eyes. “I don’t know why I asked.”

“It was Fulcrum, wasn’t it?” Gallius growled, “That farking Rebel. I don’t know why you agreed to go through with all this Intelligence work.”

“It was what the Emperor commanded,” Sinjir said flatly, “How could I say no?”

“Sin--”

“--Just--” Sinjir snapped, “Stop talking.”

Gallius propped himself up on an elbow.

“Sinjir,” he said quietly, “You weren’t ever going to be on the planet. I’d’ve found a way to get you off. You _know_ that.”

Sinjir laughed harshly.

“You think I care about myself?” he said, “ _Fark_ , if you decide to blow up an entire farking planet, I think I’d rather die.”

“Where’d this sudden crisis of conscience come from?” Gallius said tightly, “You’re a loyalty officer, for fark’s sake. It’s your farking job to turn innocent people in.”

“Innocent?” Sinjir laughed, “Who’s innocent in the farking Empire?” He turned away to face the far wall.

“I could have you arrested for that, you know.”

“Go right the fark ahead. We all know I deserve it.”

Gallius reached out, touched a hand to his shoulder.

Sinjir flinched away from his cold touch.

“How do you blow up a planet, anyways?” he said to the wall, “Is it some Sith thing? You think hard enough about the Force and that’s how you kill the people who’ve given their lives to follow you, whether they want to or not?”

Gallius pulled Sinjir back around to face him.

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he said.

Sinjir looked up at him.

“Then why are you doing this?” he asked.

“This is the Empire, Sin,” Gallius said, brittle and weary, “We do as we’re told.”

“If the Emperor told you to kill me, would you?”

Gallius looked down a him, eyes glittering, hands planted tautly on either side of Sinjir’s face.

“No,” he said quietly, fractured, “No, I wouldn’t.”

Sinjir turned away.

He’d seen the truth.

* * *

“Why can’t we just blow the farking core, blow the farking planet, and get the fark out of here?” Han demanded as they streaked down towards the surface after Sinjir’s shuttle.

“I know you did not just suggest--to _me_ \--that we blow up a planet,” Leia snarled.

Han winced.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Leia pressed her lips together.

“This is a bad idea,” Kaytoo said.

“You think I don’t know that?” Han snapped.

Half a breath later, they were in the Observatory, hurtling through the jagged, gaping hole they had torn into the earth. Thousands and thousands of miles away, the pulsing, molten core of Jakku flared, a constant, unmistakable presence.

“Watch it!” Han shouted as Kaytoo twitched the shuttle minutely to the side, narrowly clearing a protruding duracrete structure.

“Those were the shield generators,” Kaytoo said helpfully as the smoking structure flashed by.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Jyn growled, clinging again to her seat.

The shuttle groaned around them.

“What the fark are you doing, Sinjir?” Leia muttered to herself.

“There, there!” Han shouted, “He turned in--”

“--I am aware of this,” Kaytoo said peevishly, jerking them around into a wide, sloping corridor.

Sparking ceiling panels and the dull glow of Sinjir’s engine lights were all they had to guide their way, and Leia’s heart sank still further as the distance between them opened.

“Come on,” Han urged, “He’s getting away.”

 _We’re losing him_.

Leia gripped the edge of her seat.

“Stop!” Han bawled, “ _Stop, he’s right there!_ ”

Kaytoo reached up faster than her eye could follow and yanked down their emergency brakes, slamming them all against their restraints.

Jyn braced herself for an impact that never came.

Into the silence, Han shouted, “Everyone alright back there?”

Jyn looked across the aisle at Leia, who, though pale and strained, nodded.

“Yeah,” she replied, unbuckling her harness and thumbing off the strap on her holster.

Leia caught the movement. Their eyes met again. Leia looked away first.

Han pushed between them to door, lips pressed tightly together.

“Stay here,” he said to Leia, cautiously keying the hatch open.

“I know him better than any of you,” Leia snapped, “I’m going.”

Jyn glanced over her shoulder at Kaytoo, who watched them from just inside the cockpit. He had a blaster in his hand.

“Stay with the ship,” she said to him.

“And what would be the point of _that?_ ” Kaytoo replied, stepping around her in one large stride, stooped to clear the low roof.

He stepped out of the shuttle first, blaster raised, optics glowing brightly in the murky gloom.

Jyn swore under her breath and followed, Leia and Han close behind, bickering--for once--quietly.

“Do you know what this is?” she whispered, knowing Kaytoo’s sensitive audio receptors would pick up her speech with ease, “This Observatory thing?”

Servos whirred quietly.

“There is nothing in my outdated Imperial databanks on this subject,” Kaytoo replied, vocabulator modulated to its lowest volume setting.

Jyn could tell, somehow, that he was troubled. She glanced over her shoulder to Han and Leia, who had fallen silent, Leia’s eyes fierce, Han’s jaw set in a mullish, worried frown.

As they reached Sinjir’s shuttle, Kaytoo ran a preliminary scan.

“No life forms,” he reported. Blithely, he added, “Maybe he’s dead.”

Jyn thunked him in his chestplate as Leia approached.

“Shut up,” she hissed.

Kaytoo drew back, irritated.

“No one’s here,” Jyn said to Leia.

“Surprise,” Leia muttered, turning away and continuing down the corridor, soft boots silent against the polished durasteel floor, “Let’s keep going.”

Jyn and Han shared a look. Han shrugged, conveying a world of resigned dedication in a gesture. Jyn his an involuntary smile and nudged Kaytoo along.

“Come on,” she said.

Kaytoo strode to the lead again, and Han pushed himself in front of Leia, leaving Jyn to take up the rear. Endlessly, it seemed, the darkness stretched, only the warning glow of the planet’s pulsing heart lighting their way deeper into uncertainty.

Unbidden, images of Cassian came to her mind.

His face, grim and determined, as they infiltrated the data vault on Scarif. His hands, certain and sure, as they assembled the blaster meant to kill her father. His eyes, dark and sad and so very transparent, shouting the truth of his fear.

She missed him.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise.

It was.

She forced herself back to the present, back to the encroaching doom.

Before her, Leia stumbled suddenly, and Jyn stopped short, reaching out and grabbing hold of her arm. Han turned, the question on his face quickly becoming worry.

“Leia?” he whispered, holstering his blaster and grabbing her other arm, “What’s wrong?”

Jyn could feel Leia’s arm trembling beneath her hand. In the dying glow of the planetary core, Leia’s face was pale and drawn.

“Sith,” she said hoarsely.

“What, here? Now?” Han demanded.

“No, he’s--”

A piercing scream shattered the darkness, blood-red and white-hot, thrumming in their chests like a living, dying thing.

“ _Go!_ ” Leia gasped, clinging to them, “ _Stop him!_ ”

Jyn tore her arm away, a strange distance between her mind and her body.

“Stay here,” she said to Han, “I’ll go.”

He said nothing. She doubted he’d even heard her.

The scream turned to a wail, soaring higher and higher, higher, higher, bringing tears to her eyes as she sprinted down the corridor, heart pounding twice as fast as her boots, Kaytoo loping just before her, always, always her constant defense against the unknown.

Inhuman, inhuman.

How could such a sound come from a man?

Her kyber crystal burned against her chest, crying out, too, mourning in the way crystals do, doomed as they are to endure silent eternities.

A closed door loomed.

A hatch.

A cave.

She shook the tears from her face, gritting her teeth.

A door.

A room.

Two paces away, Kaytoo fired one shot at the access panel, and the door slid open, bleeding red light into the corridor.

Time slowed.

Time raced.

They burst through together, a defender, a protector, and saw--


	34. Tremolo

**The _Tantive III_**

“Sir, the borehole temperature has reached critical threshold.”

Kes spun around in his chair, tearing his headset off.

General Airen Cracken sat impassively in the seat of command, inscrutable, but Kes knew him well enough to see the wheels churning.

“What are our options?” the general demanded, turning to the group of Contruum’s finest engineers clustered around the flashing holomap in the center of the bridge.

Frantic, rushed conversation before--

“We’re out of options, sir,” the head engineer reported, thick mustache bristling, “The core was superheated by the blast. Based on other known planets of similar size and composition, its current temperature is, from our measurements, increasing exponentially in excess of five thousand times the rate accounted for by random variance. Short of reversing this process, we estimate that we have no more than--” he glanced down at his datapad, “--thirty minutes before Jakku’s core destabilizes completely and rapidly increases in volume and release of energy in an extreme manner.”

“You mean ‘explodes,’” General Cracken said, ever dry.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then get everyone out of there,” he barked at the comms officers, “Drop the data uplink. I want to be out of here in fifteen minutes, do you understand?”

Sharp “Yes, sir”s rang across the bridge as comms officers set to work contacting the ground teams.

“Sir--” Kes began, half-rising.

“--Fifteen minutes, Dameron,” General Cracken commanded, voice hard, eyes soft, “Get them back aboard.”

Kes turned back to the comsat console.

He swallowed.

"Yes, sir," he said.

* * *

**Yavin 4**

“So he’s not dead,” Irenez said.

Shara stood beside her, staring at the live holo from the battefield.

“Pity,” she replied.

General Shaef Corssin stood in the grassy field, armed, somehow, by the detente.

Shara opened her mouth, a curse on her tongue. Pres watched her with wide, unseeing eyes.

She snapped her mouth shut.

“General Andor!” Corssin shouted, knowing, somehow, exactly which of the hovering fighters had a holocam fixed on his face.

The sound of running footsteps approached, and Shara turned to see BoShek burst into the command center, helmet tucked under an arm, hair plastered to his forehead.

“It’s--” he gasped.

“--Corssin,” Shara finished, moving aside so he could see the holo, “Yeah, we know.”

The pilot’s eyes widened.

“Oh,” he said, clumping to a halt at her side, chest heaving, “He wants to talk.”

“Yeah,” Shara said.

“Where’s General Andor?” BoShek asked, looking around.

“Out,” Shara replied shortly, staring at the holo of the Imperial general, who waited impatiently, arms folded across his chest.

BoShek shifted uneasily.

“What do you mean ‘out’?” he said, “Who’s in charge?”

Shara glanced at Irenez.

“I am,” she replied, shifting Poe from one arm to another.

“You?” BoShek stammered, “That’s some promotion.”

“You’re welcome to it,” Shara muttered sourly. “Wedge,” she said into her comset, “How’s it looking on the ground?”

“Firing’s ceased at all sites,” Wedge reported promptly.

“Is there precedent for this?” BoShek said incredulously.

“I don’t farking care,” Shara snarled, setting Poe down and taking his hand. Irenez moved to stand behind her, just off to the side. “Private,” Shara called across the room, “Open an audio broadcast line.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Private Olathryn replied, hunching over his console and keying in the requisite codes. After a few moments, he turned at nodded at her.

“General Corssin,” Shara said, hardening her voice into one of command.

The holo flickered, jumped, and when it settled again, General Corssin was frowning, heavy lined face dark and stormy.

“Who am I speaking to?” he demanded.

“General Shara Bey,” she replied sharply, “I’m in command here. What do you want?”

General Corssin held his hands out.

“You have my men surrounded,” he said.

“Congratulations,” Shara snapped, caustic, scathing. Behind her, Irenez stepped minutely closer, a warning presence.

“I’m no barbarian,” Corssin said coldly, chin held high, “I see no purpose in the senseless slaughter of brave men.”

“That’s the first I’m hearing of it,” Shara snarled.

Corssin said nothing.

Shara reined her temper in sharply. She felt Poe’s hand around hers, gripping tightly, felt his large, frightened eyes searching her face.

“Disarm your men,” she demanded tautly, “Any sign of hostilities, and any farking _truce_ you might have wanted for yourself will end the way this farking war should have, years ago--” she curled her lip, “--with your death.”

She slammed a hand down on the holoprojector and cut off the transmission.

* * *

**The _Tantive III_**

“General,” the lead comms officer called out across the bridge, “There’s a ‘ship approaching at hyperspeed!”

“It’s a small one!” their nav officer added quickly, squinting at the readout, “A Starfarer--”

“-- _Tantive III_ , hold your fire,” Luke’s garbled voice crackled across the open comm, “We’re on our way down to the surface.”

“Negative, General,” General Cracken said sharply, “I’ve just ordered a planet-wide evacuation. The planetary core’s minutes away from going critical.”

“We know,” Luke replied, sounding slightly strained.

“We?” General Cracken repeated, “Who’s with you?”

“General Andor,” Luke said.

“What--”

“--Just get the fleet out of here,” Luke interrupted, “We’ll take care of ourselves.”

General Cracken clenched his jaw briefly.

“We’ve lost contact with a team on the ground,” he said uneasily.

“Leia,” Luke said.

“And Solo, Erso, and her droid,” he hesitated, but only briefly, “They went back to find an Intelligence operative.”

“Intelligence?” Luke said sharply.

Kes turned quickly to the viewport just in time to catch the Starfarer hurtle by.

A loud crackle.

“Is it Sinjir?” Cassian demanded.

“Yeah,” Kes said, darting an apologetic look at General Cracken, who sat back in his seat, jaw set.

“Understood,” Cassian replied tonelessly.

“You’re not going down there,” Kes snapped, “The temperature reading’s--”

“Just get everyone out,” Luke interrupted, “We'll handle the rest.”

General Cracken might have sighed. He was a kind man, Kes knew. A gentle man.

“Understood,” he said reluctantly, "May the Force be with you."

* * *

**Yavin 4**

“You doin’ okay?” Shara murmured in Pres’s ear, smoothing back his hair.

He nodded, head cocked, not quite looking up at her, worrying at the hem of his tunic with small, nervous hands. Poe pulled away from her and clambered up into the chair beside him, curling up wordlessly into his side.

Shara smiled, sadly.

* * *

**Jakku**

Luke slammed his palm against another temperature indicator alarm, teeth gritted. Sweat soaked the collar of his tunic, fierce heat crackling through the air.

“How much farther?” Cassian gritted out, squinting against the searing light ahead.

Luke closed his eyes.

“ _Luke_ ,” Cassian pressed.

Suddenly--

\--a beach, a beach, he was on a beach and the sky was burning and they were falling--

* * *

**Yavin 4**

Shara turned back to the holoprojector, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Wedge,” she said into her comset, “How’s it looking?”

“Not bad,” Wedge replied, “Jax is enjoying herself.”

“Jax?”

“Oh, that’s right. Someone’s retired and out of the loop.”

Shara rolled her eyes, leaning against the holoprojector. Irenez smiled faintly.

“Jax’s Melshi’s sister,” Wedge supplied helpfully, “She transferred over a couple months back.”

“Melshi had a sister?” Shara said, lips twitching slightly.

“Yeah,” Wedge laughed softly, “Who would’ve known?” Thoughtfully, he added, “I think you two’d get along.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She’s tough.”

* * *

**Jakku**

\--again in searing heat, the horizon towering over them, greeting them, welcoming them--

“-- _Cassian!_ ”

He jerked upright in his seat, blinking, squinting, turning away from the angry light.

“Cassian, can you hear me?”

He turned sluggishly to look at Luke, who, both hands tight on the controls, shuddered with effort.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

“That wasn’t a vision,” Luke said sharply, “That was a memory.”

Cassian forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly again.

“Yeah,” he rasped, “Why--”

“--I don’t know.”

* * *

“Looks like a happy ending,” BoShek said, joining her at the holoprojector, crooked smile on his face.

Shara grimaced.

“I hope so,” she said.

BoShek looked away.

“This is the end, then, isn’t it?” he said.

Shara looked up at him, eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean? The war?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugged uneasily.

“Probably,” she replied, “But we’ve said that before.”

* * *

“Hold on, _hold on!_ ” Luke gasped to himself.

“The shields--” Cassian said.

“--I _know--”_

“--They're--”

“-- _I am the shields."_

* * *

“What’ll you do, Shara?” BoShek said, hands in his pockets, frowning down at his boots, “What’ll you do when the war’s over?”

“I’m already retired,” Shara replied archly, “I don’t think much will change.”

BoShek glanced at the two boys sitting across from them.

“Yeah,” he said, slightly strangled.

Shara turned to him then out of a mother’s instinct.

She looked him up and down.

“Why?” she asked carefully, “What about you?”

He shrugged, hands bunching into fists. He turned away.

“I just never really thought about it,” he replied, “Never saw myself settling down.”

* * *

Luke jerked them around without warning, sending them lurching into a long, wide corridor.

Cassian kept his mouth shut, stomach twisting, throat closing.

 _Jyn_ , he thought, certain,  _Jyn’s in here_.

Jyn, fists ready, through rain and tears.

Jyn, shouting, proud, defiant.

Jyn, smiling, wild, feral.

The ship groaned, screeching against the walls of the corridor as it narrowed.

The heat grew into a solid thing, pressed to their faces, drowning them.

His head spun.

He thought of Scarif.

He thought of Jyn.

He thought of home.

* * *

“Yeah, neither did I,” Shara shrugged, smiling. She nodded at Poe, dozing on Pres’s shoulder, “Then he came along.”

BoShek chuckled, pained and low.

“I just don’t think I’ll get the chance,” he said.

“The right one will come along for you,” she replied, laughing quietly to herself, “You’ll see.”

He did not reply.

Shara smiled at her son again, love and pride warm in her chest.

“Shara--” BoShek said.

She looked sharply up at him, felt his fingers digging into her arm, trembling.

She looked down, felt the vibroblade pressed between her ribs.

“Shara,” BoShek said, face haggard, twisted, “Shara, I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/160464802301/alternatively-together-chapter-34-tremolo).


	35. Canon

**Jakku**

He could find his way around the Observatory blindfolded, even when it was like this--torn in two, a massive, gaping hole extending to the very heart of the planet.

He recognized the shuttle following him.

He ignored its hails, shut off the comms entirely.

Some terrible, terrifying feeling grew in his heart as he hurtled past the surface, the truth laid bare before him.

He’d been fooled. Cheated.

Had he?

He had.

_I would never do anything to hurt you._

He had.

_You haven’t seen him since?_

He had.

* * *

**One month ago.**

“I only need a name. Just a name.”

Gallius looked at him, eyes dark shadows, skin pale and sallow in the lurid shiplight.

“Why?” he asked, “Why’s he so important to you?”

“He’s a friend,” Sinjir replied, “A good friend.”

Gallius snorted.

“You don’t have friends,” he said.

Sinjir bristled.

“I do now.”

Gallius peered at him.

“You’re drunk,” he said.

“Surprise,” Sinjir snarled.

Gallius drew back, face shuttered.

“This can’t keep happening,” he said.

“What?”

“This,” Gallius said, gesturing at the two of them, standing face-to-face in the corridor of a New Republic 'ship, “Outside our scheduled meetings. It’s too dangerous.”

“This is the last time,” Sinjir replied, “I promise.”

Gallius looked at him, a faint crease between his thick brows.

“Your… friend,” he said, “What did he do?”

“He’s a slicer. They got him on Jakku.”

“And what was he doing on Jakku?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

Gallius stiffened, looking away.

“Galli--” Sinjir began, starting forward involuntarily. He brushed the Gallius’s sleeve with the back of his hand.

Gallius Rax, Fleet Admiral of the Imperial Remnant, clenched his jaw and remained silent.

Sinjir stepped closer, bringing his other hand up to hover just a fingerswidth from his cheek.

“You don’t have to go back,” Sinjir breathed, leaning into his ear, twining their hands together, “You can come with me.”

Gallius pulled away.

“Sinjir--” he choked, “I _can’t._ ”

Sinjir watched him, watched the sharp hollows of his eyes, the fear, the exhaustion, the growing _conscience--_

“Why not?” Sinjir whispered, “The Emperor’s dead. You owe him nothing.”

Gallius looked at him, dark eyes bright, pained.

“It’s too late, Sin,” he replied.

Sinjir stepped after him, taking his hand again.

“No, it’s not,” he said, “Let me help.”

Gallius shook his head.

“I have to go,” he murmured.

He made no move to pull away. Sinjir slowly, carefully took his other hand and brought them in close together, chest-to-chest, face-to-face.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, brushing his lips along Gallius’s jaw.

Gallius trembled beneath his hands.

“I know,” he rasped, voice cracking, shattering.

Their eyes met.

\-----

Leia keyed in the override code and docked her pod, slamming her way into the decompression chamber the moment the indicator light indicated it was safe to do so. Jaw clenched, she barrelled down the hall to the small cabin at the rear of the ‘ship. Keying in a different override code, she pressed herself to the wall as the door slid open on murky darkness, blaster raised.

“He’s gone,” Sinjir croaked into his hands, slumped on the edge of the bunk, naked, sheets pooled around his waist.

“What the _fark,_ Sinjir,” Leia snarled, clearing her corners and stepping into the room, cautiously waving the lights on. She did not lower her blaster.

“I needed to know,” Sinjir said, brittle, bitter, “I needed to know where they took him.”

“You can’t just take a shuttle and arrange an unauthorized meeting with a high-level Imperial informant,” Leia spat, sweeping the room, “Half the farking Chandrilan High Command want your head.”

“He’s a _friend,_ ” Sinjir retorted, “Imperial or not. Just like me.”

Leia lowered her blaster but did not holster it.

“Yeah?” she snapped, looking him up and down. Bending, she picked his pants up off the floor. “You’ve really given me reason to trust your judgement on this.”

“I never asked you to,” Sinjir replied shortly, expression shuttering, closing, slamming into place. He stood. “I put in a request for extended leave. I think it would be in everyone’s best interests if it was approved.”

“Sinjir--”

He crossed the room and took his pants from her hand.

“I’m going to Kashyyyk,” he said, looking her in the eye, “I’m going to get Conder back.”

Leia turned her back on him as he dressed, gripping her blaster tightly.

“You can’t keep going on like this,” she said.

“Like what?”

“Gallius Rax.”

A brief pause in the rustling of fabric.

“He’s just an informant,” Sinjir said flatly.

She turned to face him as he pulled his tunic back over his head, tucking it into his trousers and fastening the belt.

“I have to tell Cassian,” she said.

“You’re my handler now, aren’t you?” Sinjir shot back, searching the room for his boots, “I don’t see why it’s his problem. He’s not even in Intelligence anymore.”

“He recruited you.”

“So? He’s still dealing with the fallout from Fest. He doesn’t need to get mixed up in this.”

“ _Sinjir,_ ” Leia snapped, grabbing his arm, “Let us _help_ you.”

Sinjir flinched.

“I don’t need your help,” he replied harshly, jerking his arm away, “I don’t _want_ your help. You’d just fark everything up.”

“Sinjir--”

“Look,” he hissed, rounding on her, “I did what I had to do. I obtained actionable intelligence on the whereabouts of the New Republic’s best slicer, which is more than the entire Intelligence unit has done in the past farking _month_. And don’t start with your regulations. Your _rules_. When did your farking Rebellion start following the _rules?_ Cassian’s the only one left out of you lot who’s willing to do what it takes to get anything done anymore, and High Command’s farking sidelined him for sending troops to assist the civilian evacuation of the Rebellion’s oldest ally.”

Leia said nothing.

“Conder doesn’t have enough time to wait for you to satisfy your farking _conscience_ ,” Sinjir continued heatedly, “Galli’s the Imperial Fleet Admiral. Of course he’d be informed of the movements of high-level prisoners. We have a shared history, so I farked him, and he told me where Conder was.” He shrugged, ragged and forced. “I used him to get what I needed. It’s not the first time. It won’t be the last.”

Leia said nothing.

Turning away, Sinjir muttered, “It’s no wonder this war’s been dragging on for so long. You’re all too farking afraid of getting your hands dirty to get anything done.”

Leia watched him. She holstered her blaster.

“‘Galli,’ huh?” she said quietly, “Are you always this close to the people you ‘use,’ or is he just an exception to the rule?”

Sinjir turned back to her sharply.

“ _Fark_ you,” he spat.

Leia watched him, expressionless.

“Captain, your request for extended leave is approved, effective immediately,” she said flatly, suddenly, “During this period of time, you are to have no contact with any New Republic personnel. Disciplinary action will be discussed upon your return. Do you understand?”

Sinjir stared at her, face tight.

“I do,” he replied.

“Good,” Leia snapped. She spared him one last, penetrating look, then turned and swept out of the room.

As the door slid shut behind her, Sinjir slumped back down onto the bunk, limbs traitorously lax, traitorously heavy.

He sat.

_It’s too late, Sin._

_It’s too late_.

* * *

**Jakku**

In a frozen, dying heart, they met again, cold in the darkness.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you.”

An agreement, unspoken.

“I was worried.”

“About me.”

A truth, unspoken.

“You came back for me.”

“Of course I did.”

“Why?”

“It’s what we do, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

A breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“I should have--”

“Yeah.”

A quiet, measured look.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

“Go?”

“Home.”

“Home? We _are_ home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up--updates will be sporadic for the next couple of weeks as I face down the solid wall of statistics that is my (currently nonexistent) thesis. Thanks for your patience!
> 
> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/160535473341/alternatively-together-chapter-35-canon). (If you're confused about that last section, it's probably worth a read.)


	36. En Retenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beyond the door.

**Jakku**

At the end of the corridor, a doorway glowed red--

\--crumpled durasteel, a searing horizon--

Cassian blinked away the memory, clutching his blaster tightly as he lurched out of the ‘ship after Luke.

The doorway--a memory, a life, a death, an almost possibility--

He stumbled, and Luke turned back for him, strain creasing his young face, cast blue and sickly from the light of his humming lightsaber.

“Come on,” the Jedi grunted, roughly hauling him back to his feet, “Focus. _Fight it._ ”

The heat smothered.

Cassian staggered forward drunkenly, drenched in sweat, drowned in memory--

\--a beach, flames--

Luke slapped him across the face.

The pain washed aside the image of his dead mother, her sightless eyes reflecting the skyward sea.

“Let go,” he rasped, pushing Luke aside, clawing his way through solid air, one foot before, behind, beside the other, that familiar doorway ahead.

Luke followed closely, half-ahead, half-behind, defending, supporting.

\--Tantim--

Cassian bit his lip until it bled, feverish urgency driving him on.

The doorway at the end of the corridor was open.

 _Jyn,_ he thought.

Dull red light bled from the room out into the hall, thick and angry, flaring, obscuring.

He sensed Luke step ahead of him. The blue of his lightsaber, it seemed, choked in the bloody light.

They hovered on the threshold, poised between two worlds.

There was something terrible beyond, he knew somehow. Something--

\--Alderaan, shattered--

\--Bail Organa--his father--

He lunged past Luke into dark red light.

* * *

**Yavin 4**

“BoShek,” Shara said quietly.

She stood very still. BoShek’s hand around her arm trembled violently.

“BoShek,” she said, “Let me go.”

“I can’t,” he whispered raggedly, “They’ll kill me.”

“You think you can get out of this alive?” Shara snarled, “Open your eyes. This is the heart of the Rebellion. You kill me, and they’ll have your head.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be you.”

Shara took an unconscious step back. BoShek stepped with her, pressing them tightly together against the holoprojector.

“Cassian,” she said dully.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well, I am,” Shara snapped, pinned, “And so are my boys.”

 _Be asleep,_ she prayed, _Please be asleep_.

BoShek's breath was cold on her face, dark eyes wide, pupils blown in the glow from the holoprojector.

“How’d they get to you?” she asked quietly.

He laughed, low and terribly bitter.

“I was a smuggler way longer than I’ve been a fighter pilot,” he replied, “I have debts. A lot of them.”

“We can help--”

“ _\--No_.”

The point of pressure between her ribs increased.

“It’s too late for that, Shara,” he said, composed, resigned self-loathing plain in his face.

“BoShek--”

“--Shara!” Irenez called from across the room, “Corssin’s hailing us again.”

Shara locked eyes with BoShek. Her stomach plummeted with sudden realization.

“Does she know?” she asked, “Is she one of you too? Is that why you’re here? Why you left Bel Iblis?”

BoShek pressed his lips together.

“She--”

“--Hey--” the sound of approaching footsteps, “Hey, sorry, I really need a response--”

“--Just give me a moment,” Shara said, smiling tightly around BoShek’s shoulder.

Irenez stopped short, face going blank.

“Okay,” she said carefully, eyes darting between the two of them, “I’ll let them know.”

Shara plead with her eyes. Irenez looked across the room, to the dark, quiet corner where two children waited for war to end.

An agonizing moment.

Irenez unstrapped the safety loop on her holster.

 _Please,_ Shara thought, _Please be asleep._

Without warning, she twisted forward sharply, feeling the vibroblade skitter through flesh as she snapped her forehead into BoShek’s chin. He staggered back, and she pushed off the holoprojector, shoving him back straight into Irenez.

They crashed to the ground together, drawing the attention of the entire command center. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Private Olathryn spring to his feet. Ignoring the tearing sensation in her chest, she staggered towards him, hand outstretched, and shouted, “Blaster!”

He fumbled at his belt and threw his blaster over to her. Shara snatched it out of the air and turned just in time to duck a wild swing of BoShek’s blade, lurching away and stumbling to her knees.

Shouting, alarm across the command center, movement converging--

She raised the blaster again, but BoShek was on her again, desperately clawing it from her hands, sending her sprawling onto her side. Turning, her hands raised, she knew she was too slow. Much too slow.

BoShek stood over her, blaster in hand.

Their eyes met again.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

And stopped.

His eyes widened, wild and unblinking, fixed on her. He strained, taut, frantic, against an invisible hand.

Shara kicked out wildly and knocked the blaster from his hand moments before Private Olathryn flew through the air beside her, tackling BoShek to the ground with a shout.

She stood, trembling, pushing loose hair back from her face. BoShek, on the ground, was rigid, unmoving, soundless even as two tardy security officers wrenched his arms behind him. Shara reached out numbly behind her, leaning heavily against the holoprojector, blood roaring, screaming.

She turned--sluggishly--away from Private Olathryn, who braced his hands against her shoulders, shouting soundlessly into her face. In the shadows, swallowed by his massive rolling chair, Pres sat eerily still, head cocked to the side.

His long lashes fluttered with strain.

“Pres,” she choked out, voice small and distant.

Poe cried. Her ears rang.

Somewhere on the ground beside her, she sensed a life slipping away.

“ _Pres,”_ she tried again, “Leave it. _Leave it._ ”

She wrenched herself out of Private Olathryn’s grip, staggering across the room, pain blooming hot and tired across her chest.

“ _Pres,”_ she whispered, crumpling to her knees before him, “Pres, please.” She took his face--cold and rigid--in her hands, pulling him to her chest. Poe scrambled out from between them, wailing.

On the ground behind the holoprojector, BoShek gave a horrible, rattling gurgle.

“Pres,” Shara breathed, a prayer, “Please.”

He shuddered, struggling, floundering, even as he went limp, breath escaping in a small, quiet sob.

She pressed a kiss to his hair, hugging him tighter, tighter, holding him together.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her chest, “I didn’t mean to.”

Shara closed her eyes. The world tilted around her.

“I know,” she murmured.

Pres pressed himself closer, and his tears mingled with her blood.

* * *

**Jakku**

Jyn knew he’d come.

Even halfway across the galaxy, she’d known he’d come.

She felt his eyes on her, the warm familiarity of reassurance.

 _It’s okay,_ they said, _I’m here._

She did not turn to look at him, her blaster fixed, unwavering, on the two men in the middle of the room.

“Well,” Sinjir Rath Velus said tightly, looking over her shoulder at the newcomers, “Look who's late to the party.”

“What’s going on here?” Cassian demanded, voice sharp over the low hum of a lightsaber.

He was hurting, exhausted.

She clenched her jaw.

“At last,” said Gallius Rax, Fleet Admiral of the Imperial Remnant, “A relevant question.”

Sinjir turned back to face him, pain in the rigid lines of his narrow shoulders.

“If you’re going to kill me,” Rax said conversationally, “Now would be the time.” He held his arms out. “I’m unarmed, you know.”

“I’m not--” Sinjir broke off, licking his lips, “I’m not here to kill you.”

Rax drew back in mock surprise, dark eyes flaring red.

“Now, _that’s_ a lapse of judgement on your part,” he said mockingly.

Sinjir flinched, hands pressed tightly against his sides.

“ _Sinjir,"_ Cassian called sharply, stepping forward, his shoulder brushing hers.

“If I’d ever wanted to kill you,” Sinjir said, ignoring him, “You know I could have. Many times. You could have done the same.”

Cassian reached out and pushed her blaster down. He glared at Kaytoo until the droid did the same.

“ _Cassian,”_ Jyn hissed, ignoring the bandage around his head, the way his hands trembled, the blood crusted in his beard, “Cassian, what are you doing?”

He looked down at the crystal nestled in the hollow of her throat. He looked back up at her evenly, full of resignation. 

“Trusting the Force,” he said quietly.

Jyn looked over her shoulder at Luke, who stood uncertainly, lightsaber still ignited, thrumming low and ominous.

“Cassian--” he began.

Cassian turned away, back to Sinjir and Rax, who stood so close together they breathed each other in, shame and fear and resentment raging palpably in the angry red light that flared from the groaning walls.

He stepped forward.

“Gallius Rax,” Cassian said loudly, “You’re a Sith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive apologies for the delay--I've been adjusting to a new work schedule. Thanks for sticking with this!
> 
> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/160968894131/alternatively-together-chapter-36-en-retenant).


	37. Antiphon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A play within a play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late post. My TTS software went a bit haywire, and I'm almost incapable of reading without it.
> 
> Unfortunately, I can guarantee that exactly none of this will make sense if you haven’t read the rest of the Chaconne series.

Jyn saw Luke flinch badly, lightsaber darting up into guard stance again.

“The _fark?”_ Sinjir snarled, spinning around to face them.

Cassian stood casually at Jyn’s side, blaster held loosely in a lax hand.

“Aren’t you,” Cassian said.

Gallius Rax said nothing, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes sank in deep shadows, bottomless pits.

The kyber crystal burned in the hollow of Jyn’s neck.

Sinjir turned back to Rax, wordlessly demanding. Jyn’s throat tightened painfully. Instinctively, she stepped closer to Cassian, brushing her shoulder against his. He looked at her quickly, worry, fear, confusion flickering through his eyes.

“No,” Sinjir said suddenly, his back to them, “It’s not true.” He paused, then repeated, “It’s not true.”

Gallius Rax said nothing.

 _“_ Gallius _,”_ Sinjir demanded.

Around them, the walls moaned. Kaytoo turned back to the door, hot red glow of the superheated planet’s core reflected in his durasteel face.

“We need to leave,” he said.

“ _Gallius_ ,” Sinjir snapped, stepping forward until they were less than a handsbreadth apart.

“You’ve known,” Gallius Rax said quietly, “You’ve always known.”

“What do you mean?” Sinjir demanded hotly, “What are you saying?”

“This is an objectless conversation,” Kaytoo said, looking down at Cassian, “According to my calculations, we have less than five minutes before the planetary core reaches the critical point and we are all obliterated in a massive--”

“-- _fark off,”_ Sinjir snarled. He fisted his hand in Rax’s shirt, looking up into his face.

Jyn pressed her shoulder into Cassian’s. She looked up at him.

He watched their ghosts.

Behind them, Luke stood stiffly, straining against himself. His lightsaber crackled.

Tension stretched, taut and frayed.

“I don’t believe you,” Sinjir said hoarsely, “I don’t.”

Jyn watched his hands tremble.

Gallius pushed him away roughly and stepped back.

“You should go,” he said.

“Galli--”

 _“--Go,”_ Gallius snarled, turning away stiffly.

“Come with us,” Sinjir said, struggling to force threat into his voice. “Don’t make me shoot you.” He stepped forward, a fractured, halting movement. “I will. You know I will.”

Gallius laughed. It was a hollow, dead thing.

“Sin,” he said, head bowed, voice muffled in his chest, “You can’t hurt me.”

Jyn glanced at Luke. He looked like he was going to be sick.

Sinjir reached out and sharply spun Gallius around so they were again face to face.

“Please,” he said, voice brittle, cracked.

Gallius stared at him.

“Why are you doing this?” he rasped.

Jyn clutched Cassian’s hand convulsively. In the sickly red glow, he was pale, trembling.

They watched their lives play out before them from a distance.

“Because--” Sinjir began, hands gripping Gallius’s shoulders so tightly they trembled.

The cracked ferrocrete floor shrugged beneath them. Cassian swayed, shirt soaked through where Jyn placed her hand against his back to steady him.

“Three minutes,” Kaytoo said.

“Sinjir,” Cassian called, unease creeping into his voice.

Jyn put a hand on his arm.

“Wait,” she said.

He looked down at her, pained.

“Go,” Gallius Rax said, “Go, or I’ll never forgive myself.”

 _“There’s nothing to forgive!”_ Sinjir burst out, “It’s not your fault! We can--” he glanced back at Cassian, eyes wild, “--we can _help,_ just _come with me!”_

Gallius Rax smiled crookedly.

“It’s too late,” he said.

“Galli--”

Jakku moaned, a living, breathing thing.

Cassian crumpled to his knees, blaster dropping from nerveless fingers, ragged gasp tearing itself from his lips. Beside him, Luke staggered.

 _“Cassian!”_ Jyn shouted, wrapping her arms around his waist, hauling him back to his feet.

He cried out again as the planet shuddered, hands pressed to his temples, taking them both back to the ground.

“Luke!” Jyn demanded, _“Help him!”_

“I can’t,” Luke gasped, sinking to his knees, _“He’s too strong!”_

Eyes wide, Jyn darted a glance over her shoulder.

Gallius Rax had tears on his face.

“Please,” Sinjir begged, _“Please. I’m sorry.”_

Jakku shrieked.

“I know,” Gallius Rax said.

Sinjir clutched at him, clawed him into his arms, clinging, crying.

In her arms, Cassian forced his eyes open, reeling.

“Stop him,” he gasped over her shoulder, _“Save him!”_

Somehow, Kaytoo knew what she did not. He sprinted for the center of the room.

 _“Go--”_ Cassian choked, lurching to his feet. He pushed her ahead of him, hand gripping Luke’s tunic with feverish energy. _“Go!”_

Jyn took his hand and ran.

Behind them, a soundless scream, burned raw.

Before them, a roar of hyper-powered ‘ship engines.

“Hurry the fark up!” Han shouted, standing on the very end of the loading ramp, battered shuttle hovering in the rumbling corridor, “It’s way too hot in here!”

Jyn pushed Cassian ahead of her. He snatched at her shirt as he passed, and they landed on top of Han with a thump, Luke close behind.

Han shoved them off and rolled away, staggering back to his feet with a string of curses.

“Where’s Spiderlegs?” he demanded.

Out of the red darkness, Kaytoo leapt, crashing into the loading ramp.

“Ah, _fark,”_ Han spat, catching sight of the man in his arms, “Farking _bad feeling_.” He slammed the loading ramp shut. “Luke,” he said, eyeing the Jedi warily, “I’m gonna need your help to get us outta this thing.”

Luke swallowed, pale and resolute. They sprinted together down the hall.

Cassian stumbled back, sagging against the bulkhead.

Jyn helped him to the juddering plastisteel floor.

Kaytoo watched them silently.

“Naboo,” he said, “I carried you out of Naboo.”

Jyn looked up at him, at the undeserving man in his arms. The shuttle screeched around them.

“You did,” Cassian said.

“I am sorry,” Kaytoo said.

Cassian closed his eyes. Beyond the thin walls of the screaming shuttle, a man’s world was dying.

“I know,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's notes (and brief explanation for your confusion) [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/161081042571/alternatively-together-chapter-37-antiphon).


	38. Somma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay.

Kes gripped the arms of his chair with white-knuckled hands.

 _“Cassian,”_ he snarled into his comlink, “Luke, _Jyn._ Anyone there?”

“Critical in sixty seconds, sir,” the lead Contruum engineer reported.

General Cracken stared down at the planet below.

“Get the fleet out,” he ordered tersely.

“Sir--” Kes began, half-standing.

“--Maintain position until my command,” General Cracken said.

Kes sat.

He stared at the seismograph, at the jagged peaks growing taller, taller.

 _Come on, Cass,_ he thought, _Come on._

* * *

Pres shuddered.

Shara gripped him tighter, pulling him and Poe back against her chest, turning their faces away from the terrifying confusion unfolding in the command center.

Pres closed his eyes, suddenly pale and still. Shara looked down at him, alarmed.

“Pres?” she whispered into his ear.

Pressed against her side, Poe began whimpering again, a high, wailing sound.

Shara shushed him absently, stroking a hand through his curls.

“Pres,” she said, shaking the boy a little.

He stirred sluggishly, clouded eyes heavily-lidded.

“Hey,” Shara murmured, “What’s going on?”

Pres blinked slowly. Shara maneuvered a hand around to brush his cheek. It was cold.

“I don’t know,” Pres replied thickly, slow and confused, “Something--something’s wrong.”

Shara struggled to sit up straighter. She grimaced.

“Only something?” she said.

Pres smiled faintly.

“I don’t--”

He choked, stopped short, rigid in her arms.

“Pres?” Shara demanded, “Pres, say something.”

“Mama,” Poe whispered, clinging tightly to her arm.

 _“Pres,”_ Shara insisted.

Pres’s mouth worked soundlessly.

“Jakku,” he said in a high, strained voice, “It’s Jakku.”

* * *

Sinjir clawed his way back to consciousness and out of Kaytoo’s arms, crashing to the durasteel deck.

“What--” he began, hand falling to his empty holster.

Cassian, slumped against the opposite bulkhead, watched him warily.

Around them, the shuttle shrieked.

Somehow, it was a distant sound.

Sinjir searched the empty loading bay, eyes darting from corner to corner, straining.

“No,” he said, returning his gaze to Cassian, “ _No.”_

He clambered to his feet, staggering to the nearest viewport, flinching away from the heat radiating from its surface

The shuttle moaned.

Backlit by the angry flames of a dying planet, Sinjir stared out as the world fell to pieces around them. He turned on Cassian.

“You left him behind,” he said, disbelieving.

Cassian said nothing, meeting his gaze evenly.

“After everything he’s done for us,” Sinjir said, “You left him behind.”

The shuttle shrugged violently, sending him staggering, clutching Kaytoo’s arm for support.

“He’s a Sith, Sinjir,” Cassian said.

“He’s a _friend,”_ Sinjir retorted, eyes wide, “Just like me. A _friend.”_

“Your friend,” Cassian said gently.

 _“Yes!”_ Sinjir cried, “You _knew_. You _always knew!”_

Cassian looked up at him.

Sinjir stepped back.

“You know,” he said, struggling to control his voice, “You know what he means to me.”

“I do,” Cassian replied, “I also know what he’s capable of.”

“But--”

Abruptly, the shuttle turned on its side, sending all three of them crashing into the raised loading ramp.

Sinjir reached out and seized Cassian’s shirt, landing a cracking blow across his nose before Kaytoo reached out and plucked him away.

“You farking _bastard!”_ Sinjir howled, “You left him behind! _You left him behind!”_

Cassian struggled to his feet, hand pressed to his face. He leaned heavily against the bulkhead.

“That’s right,” he said, “I did.”

Sinjir lunged forward, slamming him to the deck.

“ _You_ should understand,” he hissed, ducking Kaytoo’s glancing blow, hands wrapped around Cassian’s throat, “ _You_ know what it’s like.”

Cassian coughed, deep in his chest.

“I do,” he rasped.

Sinjir reared back, fist cocked.

A flash of light, the acrid scent of blaster discharge, and Sinjir slumped forward. Kaytoo pushed him aside, servos whirring.

“Leave him,” Cassian choked, rolling onto his side. He wheezed for breath.

 _“Fark,”_ Jyn swore, lurching towards them as the shuttle bucked and shuddered. She holstered her blaster, looking up at Kaytoo. “I told you to look out for him,” she snapped.

Kaytoo drew back, uncharacteristically silent.

Jyn turned to Cassian, who, curled up limply, refused to meet her gaze. She stalked up to Kaytoo, who bent obligingly, and flicked the switch hidden deep behind his backplate.

Kaytoo straightened, rolling his shoulders. He glared at Cassian, then turned and pointedly jabbed Sinjir in the side with his foot.

“Get some binders on him, Kay,” Jyn said, jerking her chin at the unconscious Intelligence officer as she crouched at Cassian’s side, “I only clipped him.”

Cassian looked blearily up at her. The angry glow from the disintegrating world outside the viewport illuminated the sharp hollows of his face. She turned him gently onto his back, smoothing his hair back from his face.

“He’s wrong,” she said, opening up the medkit she’d found hidden in the shuttle’s only cabin.

Cassian closed his eyes.

“You know,” she said, waiting until he opened his eyes to look at her again.

She saw that he did. She gripped his hand fiercely.

He did not turn away.

They drowned in each other, content, in just that moment, to rest.

To rest, a dream.

A dream, only--

A massive crash. A shriek. Heat.

They fell.


	39. Soli: Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surviving.

They ploughed through the sand together, his arm around her shoulders, boots tripping, slurring unsteadily as the earth gave way beneath his feet. His head lolled limply against his chest, breathing a broken, ragged thing in her ear. He stumbled again, knees giving way, and she staggered sideways, wrenching him back to his feet with a gasped curse.

“Sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, drawing himself up again.

“Come on,” she replied, shaking her hair out of her eyes, “Just a little farther and then we can rest.”

He smiled at her, cracked and bloody. He knew the truth.

She pulled him on, across the barren, rolling hills of Jakku, one hand clutching his, the other gripping his waist, where she could feel every labored breath struggle in and out of his chest.

“Come on,” she lied again, “Come on. We’re almost there.”

He stumbled again, and this time she was too tired to hold him up. They crashed into the sand together, her hand still twined his, defiantly denying separation. She lay on her back for just a moment, marshaling strength enough for both of them, then rolled onto her side and pushed herself to her knees.

“Get up,” she demanded hoarsely, “I can’t carry you.”

He met her eyes bleakly, and in them she saw resignation.

“Don’t make me say it,” she said when he remained curled on his side, pale and trembling.

He lifted an arm and torturously pushed himself to his knees, briefly planting his forehead in the sand, eyes closed as if bowed in prayer. From there, they lurched to their feet together. He wheezed in pain, staggering again and nearly falling to his knees again, but she tugged sharply on the hand he had around her shoulder and managed to keep them upright.

“Good,” she whispered into his chest, pulling him closer, “Good.”

He slurred something in reply, blinking stinging blood and sweat away from his eyes.

“What?” she rasped.

“ _Sobrevivint_ ,” he whispered into her hair, eyelids fluttering closed. He sensed more than saw her incomprehension. “ _Sobreviviendo_ ,” he amended, adding a beat later, “Survive. Surviving.”

“Yeah,” she replied, gripping him tighter, “Yeah.”

“It,” he breathed, “Used to be this song.” He sucked in a few more breaths before continuing. “On Fest.”

“About surviving,” Jyn said.

He might have nodded, or his head might just have drooped lower to his chest.

They plodded up another dune, straining with effort.

“The funny thing is,” he gasped at the top, where they paused for just a moment to rest, “Is that it’s from Scarif. Originally.”

She looked up at him, saw the ruthlessly-suppressed fear and exhaustion in his eyes, and wondered what they had done to deserve this again--endless sand and death on the horizon.

“I get them mixed up,” he grunted as she started them on their descent, half a pace in front of him to bear his weight.

“Yeah?” Jyn huffed.

“I’m forgetting my Scryllic,” he slurred, pained.

“Sing it for me,” she said.

He snorted, face twisting.

“Maybe one day,” he replied breathlessly.

“Is that a promise?”

He mustered the energy to lift his head, looking her in the eye.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

She felt his hand tighten around hers.

Time, they had all the time in the galaxy, and yet it was not enough. She looked at him again and saw that, for him, it was. He clung to her because she needed him. Here.

He, as he had been five long years ago, was content.

Jyn marveled at this. The man who had lost everything--content again.

She did not understand.

He trembled beneath her hands as if longing to take flight, to burst free of this endless prison. She held him together, held him down.

Cassian raised his head and met her gaze again, accepting.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He smiled faintly.

“I know,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters left, and then I'm going to disappear for a long time. This is exhausting.


	40. Coda

Sinjir opened his eyes.

Conder watched him blearily bring the world into focus.

“Welcome back,” he said, voice loud in the muffled silence of their shared quarters.

Sinjir flinched bodily, jerking upright and banging his head into the bunk above him. He swore hoarsely and pressed a hand to his face, slumping forward.

Conder watched him expressionlessly.

“What happened?” Sinjir croaked, dropping his hand and turning to face him, “Where--”

Conder watched memory strike.

“Oh fark,” Sinjir said flatly.

Conder sat back in his chair, fiddling with a crumpled scrap of flimsi.

“That’s one way to put it,” he said.

Sinjir said nothing. Conder looked back up at him, saw the fear, the apology. He stood, paced to the viewport. Watched the distant planet hang, suspended, in the emptiness of space.

The silence breathed, a living, dying thing.

Conder glanced down at the flimsi in his hands.

“You weren’t entirely wrong about him,” he said finally, “We’d all be dead if you were.”

Silence.

Conder turned back to the bed, jerking his chin out the viewport.

“It’s still there,” he said, “Jakku.” He shrugged, hating himself. “More or less in one piece.”

Sinjir’s dark eyes said nothing.

“They didn’t find him,” Conder forced himself to continue, “He could still be out there. Probably is--he stopped a planet from exploding, so he’s got to be good for something. But what do I know?”

Sinjir looked away.

“Con--” he began.

 _“--don’t,”_ Conder snapped, whip-sharp, biting, “Don’t you dare start.”

Sinjir sat back against the wall, picking at the bandage wound tightly around his hand. His blaster hand.

Conder furiously swallowed emotion.

“I’ve requested a transfer to Yavin 4,” he said, anger mounting at the strain in his voice, “Given the circumstances, I think it would be for the best.”

Sinjir snapped his head around to look at him, eyes wide, hurt, for just a fleeting, flickering moment of vulnerability before tightening, shuttered.

“If that’s what you want,” he said quietly.

Conder clutched his crumpled piece of flimsi in the fists he made behind his back.

“It’s not,” he said, jaw clenched, shuddering.

“Con--”

“--but I think we both need some time to sort ourselves out.” He forced himself to meet Sinjir’s gaze. “I don’t think anything we want to say to each other right now would be good for either of us.”

Sinjir looked away first.

Conder turned to the viewport again, squinting through blurred eyes at the planet that drifted away in the distance. He swallowed, slowly crossed the room to the door. Felt Sinjir’s eyes begging him to stay.

He lifted a heavy hand to the door controls and stood there, frozen.

Into the leaden silence, Sinjir spoke.

“I’ll miss you,” he said.

Conder closed his eyes. He opened the door. Paused again on the threshold.

“I know,” he replied.

He stepped out into the hall. The door shut behind him.

* * *

“Sit. The fark. _Down.”_

“I’m _fine.”_

“We’ve diverted the mothership of the whole farking New Republic to Yavin 4 so you, General I-Have-A-Farking-Cybernetic-Spine-And-Really-Enjoy-Getting-Blown-Up, can have a nice bacta bath. I don’t think anyone would happy if you put all that to waste by falling flat on your face. Sit. Down.”

“Stop being so dramatic--”

“You think _I’m_ being dramatic? I got shot in the _ass._ ”

_“Exactly.”_

“Will you two shut up for just one farking second?” Jyn snapped, setting her datapad down on the empty seat beside her with an aggravated clack.

“Oh great,” Kes moaned, “You’ve pissed off the spitting wampa.”

“Fark you,” Cassian muttered, sullenly sinking back into his hoverchair under Jyn’s murderous glare.

Kes, laid out flat on his stomach, snorted something that might have included the word “whipped.”

Cassian snarled wordlessly.

Jyn shook her head and turned to peer out the viewport as the Massassi forests of Yavin 4 loomed into view through thick fog. Something, some knot of tension, eased within her. A vague whisper of _home_ threaded itself through the air, nestling deep in her chest. She felt Cassian smile and, upon turning to him, was surprised to find him watching her, not the planet beneath them. She returned his smile faintly.

Kes made a gagging sound in the back of his throat.

Cassian had just turned to him, a sharp retort on his lips, when the door slid open and Leia joined their little gathering.

“Ready for a nice, long soak?” she asked easily, a crooked smile on her face.

Cassian regarded her carefully.

“Always,” he replied.

Jyn watched them curiously, sensing both apologies, and was confused.

Leia rested a casual hand on Cassian’s shoulder, smile widening only slightly, dark eyes quiet.

“I just wanted to wish you a quick recovery,” she said, “The moment you’re off this ‘ship, I have to head back to Chandrila to, well...”

“Clean up our mess,” Cassian said with that wry smile that appeared only in her presence, speaking of a long, shared history of loss.

“More like Han’s mess,” Leia muttered.

Kes snorted.

“He says thanks, by the way,” Leia continued, looked over to Jyn.

“I’m sure he does,” she replied drily.

Leia huffed, equally as dry, and shrugged.

“I’m also leaving Conder with you,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder, “I think he could help Kaytoo with getting everything operational again. He’s not just a pretty face, you know.”

Conder stepped awkwardly into the room.

“Sir,” he said to Cassian.

Cassian eyed him appraisingly.

“I understand I have you to thank you for our timely rescue on Jakku,” he said.

Conder shifted uneasily.

“I used to fly humanitarian missions on Chandrila, sir,” he said uncomfortably, “And we were short pilots.”

For some reason, Leia sighed. Cassian looked at her quizzically, but she said nothing, only pressing her lips together in reply.

“You’ve met Kaytoo?” he asked instead.

“Yes, sir,” Conder replied. After a beat, he added, “Charming.”

He caught the look Cassian threw Jyn and rocked back and forth on his heels, puzzled.

“You’ll do fine,” Cassian said firmly, turning back to face him again. “Thanks, Leia,” he added, “From what I’ve heard, we could really use the help this time.”

“When do you ever not need help?” Leia snorted, stretching and making for the door, “I’ll see you later then.”

Cassian looked up.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”

Leia smiled at him, warmly, for just a moment before the door hissed shut.

The silence stretched.

“So,” Kes said loudly, looking Conder up and down, “I guess you’re one of us now.”

* * *

 

Luke was waiting for them on the ferrocrete landing pad, having arrived several hours earlier in his fighter. Shara stood next to him, Poe in her arms. Pres stood beside Luke, looking curiously up into the sky.

“Any word?” Luke asked, the moment the _Tantive III_ was away and conversation could be had at a sensible volume.

Cassian shook his head.

“If you didn’t find any trace of him, it’s no surprise we didn’t.”

“Did he really actually _freeze_ the core?” Kes asked, limping gingerly into Shara’s arms and squishing wife and child to his chest.

“Hi Kes,” Shara said, “It’s good to see you too.”

“Pap!” Poe cooed, clinging to his neck.

“You have to admit,” Kes said, taking Poe and settling him in his hip with a gratuitous wiggle of eyebrows directed at his disgruntled wife, “It’d pretty cool if he did--like freezing a million volcanoes at the same time or something.” A thought struck him, and he turned to Luke. “Can _you_ do that? Freeze a million volcanoes at the same time?”

“I don’t know,” Luke shrugged uneasily, “I don’t really _want_ to know.”

“Hmm,” Kes said.

“He’s on the good stuff,” Jyn whispered loudly in Shara’s ear.

“Oh, fark,” Shara muttered.

Cassian leaned forward in his chair. Jyn placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Pres,” he said warmly, holding out his hands, “I missed you.”

Pres stepped shyly into his arms, carefully curling up in Cassian’s lap.

“Me too,” he whispered.

Jyn watched them both, hands clenched on the push-handles of Cassian’s chair.

“Shara, Luke, this is Conder,” Cassian said, gesturing to the man beside him, “He’ll be helping us get everything back up and running.”

Conder set down his rucksack and shook hands quickly.

“I’m retired,” Shara said, “So ignore me.”

“I’m not,” Luke said, eyeing him curiously, “But I think might already know that.”

Conder laughed tentatively.

Jyn felt herself retreating.

“Medbay,” Kes said loudly, suddenly.

Jyn knew he was watching her. Irritated, she pushed Cassian forward, Shara and Luke falling into step beside them. Cassian craned his neck to look up at her, a question carving its way across his face, hardening in his mouth.

“Wait,” he said sharply, holding up a hand for her to stop. _Don’t be ridiculous._ “We’ll catch up with you there,” he said to Shara.

“Okay,” she replied easily, shooting Kes a look and herding the other men away.

Jyn shifted uneasily.

When they had gone, Cassian turned his chair around to face her, adjusting Pres in his lap with a small grunt of discomfort. He raised his eyebrows. Jyn looked down.

“Pres,” Cassian said gently, “This is Jyn.”

“Oh,” Pres said, cocking his curiously, “It _is_ you.” He fidgeted minutely, clouded eyes finding hers with disconcerting surety.”Hi,” he said uncertainly.

Cassian looked up at her, warm and reassuring.

Jyn crouched before him.

“Hi,” she replied, almost as uncertainly.

They regarded each other in silence.

“I like your necklace,” Pres murmured, fiddling with the hem of Cassian’s shirt.

“Thanks,” Jyn said, “My mother gave it to me.”

“Can I see?”

Vague apprehension flitted across Cassian’s face.

“Sure,” Jyn replied, scooting closer and pulling the kyber crystal out from beneath her shirt.

Cassian uttered another muffled sound of discomfort as Pres shifted against his chest, reaching out for her. After a moment’s hesitation, Jyn stood and pulled him into her arms, placing the crystal in his small, warm hand. Pres stared off over her shoulder, brow furrowed in concentration as he traced out the crystal’s smooth, worn edges with tentative fingers.

“It’s very bright,” he said, after a moment. He hesitated, then added, “Like you.”

_The strongest stars have hearts of kyber._

Cassian must have seen the stricken look on her face and known, somehow, because he coughed the most contrived cough she’d ever heard this side of Scarif and shifted loudly in his chair.

“Stop that,” she snapped at him with half-feigned irritation, “You’re not supposed to fall apart until Kalonia’s had a chance to shout at you again.”

Pres giggled shyly, looking up into her face.

Cassian smiled, so soft and so warm, that she smiled grudgingly back.

“Come on,” she said roughly, spinning him around, “Stop pretending you’re not trying to avoid your long-overdue bacta bath.” After a beat, she said, “Be a good example, General.”

“Oh, I try,” Cassian replied, still smiling up at her as she shoved him forward, sun breaking through the thick fog and illuminating the tired lines on his face, “I really do.”

Jyn snorted and cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. He caught her hand and leaned into it, planting a quiet kiss against her knuckles. She felt his smile, his sadness. His hope.

Her son was in her arms, and her home was beside her.

The fog cleared.

They crossed the ferrocrete landing pad together, a newly found family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting tonight because this week's going to be bloody murder.
> 
> This chapter's notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/161451163706/alternatively-together-chapter-40-coda).


	41. Encore

**One year later**

“You have your spare comlink?”

“Yeah.”

“Your warm jumper?”

“Yeah.”

“The warm one, I mean, not the one you wear every day.”

“Yeah.”

“Your, ah… Toothbrush? Toothpaste? Towel?”

“Yes.”

“Wrist-chrono? Datapad?”

_“Yes, Dad.”_

“For fark’s sake, leave him alone or he’ll never want to come back!” Jyn shouted from their bedroom, where she was rummaging around in his dresser for a clean shirt.

“That’s not true, is it?” Cassian said wryly, crouching in front of Pres and mussing his hair.

Pres cocked his head, grinning slyly.

“I don’t know,” he said, ducking away.

Cassian snorted, tugging Pres’s tabards straight.

“Maybe I shouldn’t let you go,” Cassian said, “Maybe I should just keep you here, lock you up with your ma and me for the rest of your life.”

Pres wrinkled his nose.

“Well, now I really don’t want to come back,” he said.

“We’d miss you terribly,” Cassian replied gravely.

Pres stuck his nose in the air.

“I should hope so,” he said loftily in a pitch-perfect imitation of Jyn at her most irritable.

 _“Hey!”_ Jyn called over the crash of drawers. Cassian winced. “I heard that!”

Pres giggled, tucking his thumbs in behind the straps of his rucksack.

Cassian smiled at him, heart full.

“Stop it,” Pres said quietly.

“Stop what?”

“Worrying.”

Cassian snorted again, softer this time.

“When have you ever known me not to be worried?”

“Well,” Pres replied cheekily, “I haven’t known you very long, so I don’t think--”

Cassian sighed loudly.

Pres grinned, prodding Cassian in the shoulder.

“It’s only for two nights,” he said, “And I’ll be with Luke. Right here.”

“I don’t think the Jedi city counts as ‘right here,’” Cassian replied, sitting down cross-legged to relieve the pressure on his aching knees.

“The entrance is literally twenty feet from our back door,” Pres said drily, “It’ll be like that time we went ‘camping’ in our backyard.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cassian sighed.

Pres cocked his head. Cassian’s scalp prickled.

“Pres,” he said warningly, “Stop it.”

“Sorry,” Pres said quickly, stepping back, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Cassian watched him, a hard resignation settling in his heart.

“You see?” Pres said, staring sightlessly at the ground, “I have to go. We have to figure something out.”

Cassian reached for him again, pulled him close.

“I know,” he murmured.

Pres wrapped his arms around Cassian’s neck, face burrowed into his father’s shoulder.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Cassian whispered into his ear.

“I know,” Pres replied, “But it’s not okay if other people are.”

“That’s not for you to worry about,” Cassian said fiercely, pulling back, cupping Pres’s face in his hands.

Pres looked away, troubled.

A quiet knock sounded at the back door.

“Luke’s here,” he said quickly.

“Come in!” Cassian shouted down the hall, “It’s unlocked!”

Luke cautiously poked his shaggy head into the entryway, looking up and down the hall before spotting them half-hidden behind a sofa in the living room.

“Hey,” he said brightly, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Pres chirped, smiling sunnily up at him.

“Hurry up, Jyn!” Cassian called, “Luke’s here!”

“I’m _trying!”_ Jyn hollered, “Where the fark are all your shirts?”

“You tell me!” Cassian replied. To Pres, he whispered, “I hid them at the top of your closet. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Pres said loudly.

_“I heard that!”_

“Maybe you should help her?” Luke suggested, “Before she decides to come after all of us with her truncheons.”

Cassian clambered creakily back to his feet with a dramatic groan, retreating down the hall.

“Jyn,” he sighed, leaning around the door to their room, “Really?”

“Where did you put all your shirts!?” Jyn spat, hair dripping, eyes narrowed, “Your drawer’s empty, but I’m pretty sure you did the laundry yesterday.”

“Requisitions is going to have my head if I make another request for you,” Cassian said, watching her rifle through his drawers with amusement.

“It’s not my fault they don’t ever have anything in my size,” Jyn retorted.

“I really need to teach you how to sew,” Cassian muttered, pushing himself away from the doorframe and pulling his shirt off.

“I can’t even begin to say how unnecessary that was,” Jyn said, eyeing the shirt he held out to her.

“You want it or not?” Cassian replied, regretting his words immediately.

Jyn arched her eyebrows and snatched the shirt from his hands.

“Oh, _that_ was never in question,” she said, pulling it over her head.

Cassian flushed and turned for the closet, pulling out his old field jacket and threading his arms through the sleeves.

“Come on,” he said quickly, reaching for her hand.

“Wait,” Jyn said, taking it but pulling back.

Cassian turned back to her and saw the misgiving in her face.

“Just two nights,” he said, “He’ll be with Luke.”

“You don’t have to pretend for me.”

Cassian looked down, briefly.

“I’m not,” he said, and met her eyes again with apology.

“Cassian,” she said.

He swallowed.

“He needs this,” he murmured, “We can’t even begin to help him with this.” He took a breath. “And it’s something that he wants to do.”

Jyn smiled sadly at him. She reached up, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“You ever dream your son would be a Jedi?” she asked.

He huffed quietly.

“I think I’d rather have died,” he replied.

“That’s overdoing it a bit, I think,” she said.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Separatist, remember?” he said.

She shrugged. He smiled crookedly.

“Well, come on, then,” she said, “Now that your mind’s more or less made up.”

She led him back down the hall, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as she went. He followed.

“Hey Jyn,” Luke said, perched casually on the back of the sofa, watching Pres read from the datapad Cassian had modified for him, “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” Cassian quipped. Jyn stepped on his foot. He winced and shuffled away.

Luke, long-habituated to their pseudo-antagonistic interactions, put his cybernetic hand on Pres’s head.

“Time to go, buddy,” he said.

Pres stuffed his datapad back into his rucksack and stood. He turned to Jyn.

“Bye, Mom,” he said, trundling over to give her a hug.

“Be good,” Jyn said, crouching and planting a kiss on his cheek, “Be smart.”

“I will,” Pres agreed sunnily.

Cassian hugged him tightly, full of nameless fear.

“Love you,” he said, “See you in a few days.”

“Love you too,” Pres said, kissing him right on the tip of his nose.

Cassian pulled a face out of habit, and Pres giggled, turning to look up at Luke, blue-white eyes wide and excited.

Cassian stood carefully, silently grateful for Jyn’s steadying presence at his shoulder.

With forced levity, he turned to Luke and said, “I’m trusting you with him.”

Luke met his gaze gravely, young and old at once.

“I know,” he said, “We’ll be back before you know it.”

Jyn opened the door for them. The cool whisper of Yavin 4’s sunset breeze made Cassian shiver, jacket zipper cold against bare skin.

Luke stepped outside, Pres’s hand in his.

“See you,” he said over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Cassian replied.

Jyn slipped her hand into his, watching Luke and Pres set out across the grass to the gently glowing tree blanketed in growing darkness. When they reached the tree, Pres looked back, waving a small hand in farewell, a bright grin splitting his face. Jyn waved back. So did Cassian.

Luke bent down to murmur into Pres’s ear. He nodded eagerly, and Luke placed a hand flat against the worn tree trunk.

Light--life--flashed by, and when the sun regained its rightful place in the sky, they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you one, thank you all for sticking with this beast.  
> As mentioned at the end of the last chapter, I'll be taking a bit of a break from this series for the next few weeks, but I'll be back eventually to close out the series.
> 
> This chapter's (and general series) notes [here](https://ibohe.tumblr.com/post/161480472611/alternatively-together-chapter-41-encore).


End file.
